


Arriving Home

by lookingforatardis, NiciJones



Series: Home [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Divorce, Family Drama, Family Fluff, First Time, Fluff, LOOK WE WROTE FLUFF ARE YOU PROUD, M/M, Sequel, Sneaking Around, ao3 get your shit together this is the fifth time ive tried uploading omfg, if i add any others it will give away secrets but i actually tried tagging this time so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 118,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiciJones/pseuds/NiciJones
Summary: After everything, it was always him. Through the fighting and the misunderstandings, through her therapy and their judgement, through anxiety and desperation, he was and always would be one thing at the end of every day - HOME.Sequel to Coming Home, read that first! :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who's supported this fic. Your comments mean so much and your enthusiasm is amazing. Hopefully you all find what you're looking for here.

New York is never asleep, especially not the airport. People flood out of the building just as they go in; it’s like a pulse point of the city. Or rather, it’s supplied with fresh blood. New minds and ideas enter the city here. People say goodbye, cry tears because they have to separate from their loved ones for short or long. Parents who have to watch their kids walk away and grow up.

On the other side at the arrival gate, tears of joy and laughter fill this air. Reunited families that had to wait forever for one or more members. Lovers, friends, spouses, parents.

Timmy pulls the cap lower and hopes he isn’t spotted. They had agreed to meet in the car, but he couldn’t take it; he has to be with him as soon as possible, can’t stand knowing he’s touched ground but isn’t with him.

It’s been almost two years now since he met Armie for the first time, since that 6’5’’ of American perfection had burst into his piano lesson. But after the sheer size of Armie had fully registered, he’d looked him in the eyes and had possibly been lost from the start. He’d never found his way out of the blue depths again and instead settled into his mind that he’s soon found to be fascinating and complex. Luca had been right in trusting Armie with the role of Oliver and he’s glad Luca had given him the opportunity to get to know this incredible man and fall in love with him.

He gets his phone out and reads the text again. _See you soon, sweet tea. - I’m coming home._ He looks up and sees the confirmation that the plane has touched ground. Now only a few minutes would be left before he’d walk through this door and the only thing he’d have to do is _arrive_ home.

 

The kids slept the entire flight, a true miracle. It helped that they were exhausted and it fit into their normal sleep schedule, though he knew they'd still be tired when they arrived because of the time difference. It's barely 6am, but to their little bodies it's the middle of the night—hopefully Timmy wouldn't mind them snoozing when they arrived at his apartment. He loses his train of thought, lost in his head—

_Timmy._

He pushes the stroller with one hand and holds Harper against him with the other, her body draped haphazardly over him, snuggling against his chest and falling in and out of sleep. When he arrives at the baggage claim doors, he pauses and adjusts her, trying not to disturb her too much. He'd kept this trip quiet, no one should be there to take pictures, especially not this early. He's not sure what the car will look like that's picking him up, but he doesn't worry about this either, more concerned with how he was going to get the kids and their luggage out the door. He sighs and walks forward, smiling as a security guard opens the doors for him to walk into the open space. He always hated doing this—the only people who waited for him in places like this usually had cameras. Harper wipes her eyes with the back of her hands and lets out a yawn, gripping Armie's shirt as they make their way towards the conveyor belt for their bags. He glances out over the small collection of people with the intention to see if there were any paparazzi and—

He freezes mid stride, his heart hammering out of his chest and into the space between them. _Timmy._

 

Timmy sees them right away, sees _him_ right away. Like always. He looks tired and wound up with a tired Harper draped over him. God, she's adorable. He watches as she wipes her eyes before snuggling back into her dad's embrace. And him of course. This is it. They are here. They are here to stay. He's here because—God, he's here because they are going to try and make this work for them. He watches as he lifts his head and his eyes sweep across the crowd warily. But then their eyes meet and it's like the world tilts on its axis, slowly because it's old and heavy but with a certainty that makes him believe it's never going to be the same again. It's reckless for them to be here. Even with no paparazzi there are always some blurry phone pics that reach Twitter or Instagram. That's not what Timmy thinks about, he thinks about nothing else than Armie at the moment so it's no surprise that he quickly starts moving and closes the last distance between them. He stops as he stands in front of Armie, not wanting to disrupt Harper. "Welcome home, Armie,” he says quietly.

Armie's eyes slip shut and he smiles, tightening his arm around Harper, just barely, trying to remind himself he can't reach out and hold him like he wants. "God, I missed you," he whispers. Harper turns at the sound of their voices, eyes half closed. Armie could cry at her reaction to Timmy, the instinctual turn and lean towards him at his voice; perhaps Timmy had this effect on everyone. She stares at him for a moment before it registers that he's really there, and she does exactly what Armie desperately wanted for himself. Her hands release Armie's shirt and she nearly dives towards Timmy, arms outstretched, complete faith that he would catch her against his chest. When he does, Armie has to look away to keep from being overwhelmed, staring at the luggage to avoid making a scene. Harper is quiet, content, asleep in an instant—it does more to comfort Armie than anything else could, his own child feeling safe in Timmy's arms. He walks over to grab their bags when they show up and he stares openly as he walks back, the sight of Timmy holding Harper and keeping an eye on Ford in his stroller a sight he'd dreamed of, though it never looked quite this good. "Please—let's get out of here," he mumbles lowly when he reaches them, a hand touching his daughter's back momentarily before adjusting the diaper bag on his shoulder and grabbing handles of bags.

Timothée would be lying if he'd say he hadn't worried about the kids not adapting well but they seemed more than content right now. "That's probably a good idea. Come on." Timmy had prepared for them to get picked up so there's a van waiting for them outside. He looks down at Harper again and again, then at Ford, everything to not look at Armie. He's not sure if he could handle his reaction in public. The driver helps them stack the luggage and stroller in. When Armie carefully lifts his son up they are both holding their breath but thankfully he doesn't wake up. Their eyes meet as they both release a breath and they can't hide their smiles. So that's what it's like. Timmy can't wait for them to touch though. He feels like a starving man tied up in front of a buffet. They climb in and fasten their seat belts, stealing looks at each other constantly. The driver knows where to take them so the glass between them is closed and Timmy lets out another deep breath when the door closes. A little bit of privacy. Thanks to the tinted windows no one can see them. He looks over at Armie and finds he's already looking at him. "I can't believe you're really here," Timmy mumbles in awe.

With the kids fast asleep and a privacy barrier between them and the driver, Armie can't stop himself anymore. He reaches over and takes his hand, pulls it to him and presses his lips against his knuckles. He's already breathless and dizzy and it's never felt quite like this, so overwhelming to just be _near_ another person. He holds his hand against his chest and smiles at him. "Me either," he whispers. "Feels like a dream." His thumb swipes over the back of Timmy's hand to remind himself that he's real, and butterflies erupt in his chest. FaceTime just didn't do him justice.

 

"I don't know how I got so lucky." Timmy has to turn his gaze away for a moment afraid to simply burst. Then he can't stand not looking at him though and bites his lip. Armie's eyes are so alive and speak of so much love it makes him breathless. "It's not though. Should I pinch you to remind you?" He asks. He does so anyway and earns a breathless chuckle. "Oh man, I missed you. Every second since Austin has been torture." He scoots as close as possible and his head against Armie's shoulder, tightening his grip on his hand. He has to keep reminding himself that he really made it and Armie is really here. "Armie-" he whispers. "I really want to kiss you right now." He admits and turns his head to look up at him. He isn't sure if he's allowed to though. Shouldn't it be more special? With no distraction or at least without them both being strapped in and with the kids preventing them from moving too much. He wants Armie to know though and perhaps, he wouldn't care. There'd be a thousand other kisses they'd share. They don't have to force this one to be overly special.

Armie wants to, _god_ does Armie want to—but his kids had a wonderful habit of ruining the mood (historically speaking) with him and Elizabeth, and he wasn't sure he'd be prepared to explain away his tongue down Timmy's throat. He leans in and brushes his lips against his jaw, breathing lightly against him as his voice skims his skin. "Can't risk it," he murmurs. "Later, they'll sleep for awhile at home." He pulls away slowly, having to force himself to part from him. His head rests against Timmy's and he takes a deep breath to try to stop his racing heart. There was a lot about this that worried him, confused him even. He wasn't sure where the lines really were anymore, if there ever were any. Certainly, he had to be cautious where the kids were concerned, and with Timmy's place being a studio, well, that further complicated everything. They'd have to be careful; Armie still wasn't even sure Harper understood why they went to New York in the first place.

Their hands come to rest between them, Armie's thumb occasionally brushing over the back of Timmy's hand. He suddenly remembers the bathroom in LA after the Oscars. A brush of their hands had started this all, had broken a dam they hadn’t been able to build up again since. Then the night in Timmy's room where they’d done nothing more than hold each other and pretending they didn’t notice lips dragging over skin. Confession had filled the night air, some of them so hard to believe Tim found himself still struggling with it. The morning after, when they’d both caved as they are confronted with the real life they wouldn’t have and the resulting stream of steamy kisses. He wouldn’t give that up for anything.

And then Austin, them strolling through the park, a rare carefree moment that they’d stolen, the way Armie's foot had brushed his at the lunch after and how he’d gotten a nosebleed. It’s almost too ridiculous to tell anyone. He also remembers things spiraling though, the realisation setting in that he’s not and would never be his first choice, Armie closing the door behind him after Timmy had begged him not to go... then the calls after he’d left... they’d been a mess, laden with unspoken words, doubts, regrets and feelings of guilt. All the harder to believe that they ended up here now.

When Armie's shoulder nudges him carefully Timmy finds back into reality and notices he’d started crying. “Sorry, I just-“ he sniffles, smiles, looks up at Armie. “Trying to process this.”

Armie reaches out and wipes tears, allowing his hand to linger over his smooth skin. He understands in some indescribable way that Timmy is thinking of how far they'd come to get to this point, and it pulls his own heart out of him and into the space between their palms. "I love you," he breathes, sensing he needs to hear it. The moment lays suspended around them in the quiet hum of the car, the kids sleeping soundly. He lets his head fall against Timmy lightly, his lips finding his shoulder and pressing a kiss against him before the moment slips away. His other hand wraps around Timmy's arm and gently squeezes his bicep before falling down to feel their hands, covering Timmy's with it. A part of him feels guilty for the thought, but he can't help but think of how beautiful Timmy is when he cries, all honest and vulnerable and lovely.

“God, I-“ he turns and makes sure to look at Armie while he says it, “I love you, too.” The car slows down and pulls over. “Home Sweet Home.” Timmy says and wipes his tears away before they help each other to get out without waking the kids. They each take a kid and a piece of luggage and Armie insists on paying for the drive. The guy at the reception nods at Timmy unimpressed. He’s tired but Timmy knows most of them, makes sure to often stop by for a friendly chat, so sooner or later people would ask questions. But not right now, so he leads Armie into his flat and makes a sweeping gesture. “That’s it. Bed is freshly made so best just put the kids down,” he suggests and walks over carefully laying Harper down. He then makes sure to pull the blanket up in which she snuggles immediately.

Armie lets Ford curl up next to Harper—he knows this had to be just for now, the kids couldn't do this for a whole night, but for the time being it's sweet and he feels his heart swell. He worried Ford wouldn't fall back asleep after the flight, so this is a welcome surprise. He isn't sure how long it'll last, so he knows he should take advantage of what time they might have.

Timmy's bed was in a tucked away corner of the studio, so he walks away from the alcove and into the kitchen area where they'd be granted the most privacy. Just in case. He stares at Timmy until he follows, afraid to use his voice though he knows they should talk. The air crackles around them though, and it had to have been years since they last touched, not days, because he shouldn't crave him this much, even innocently, even in how badly he wanted to hug him. When Timmy nears, he grips the edge of his shirt and pulls hard until Timmy stumbles into his arms, his hands gripping the material at his back to hold him tightly.

Timmy feels like he can fully breathe again for the first time since he’d left Austin. He sinks against Armie's chest, puts his head on his shoulder. He wishes to be closer still though and steps closer until he has to climb on Armie's feet. Well, not like it’s the first time. “God, I love you so much,” he mumbles and tightens his hold once more. “Can I kiss you now?” he mumbles into his shoulder even if he’s afraid to appear too clingy. He’d just gotten him back, he might as well enjoy this while Armie let’s him.

Armie hums against him, his hands moving over his back, one tangling in his hair as he shifts. His nose brushes against Timmy's and he sighs, his fingers gently pulling at his hair until he's tilted up. "Yes, please," he whispers with a smirk, his hold tightening in the span of time between the words leaving his lips and Timmy capturing them eagerly. Armie melts in an instant, his entire body curling around Timmy to bring him closer, his heart racing only for him. _Home_ truly is the only word he can use to describe an embrace of this magnitude with Timmy as his lips move languidly against Timmy's, taking and taking while he can.

Timmy sighs, opening his mouth to their connection. It’s instant bliss like little other things. One hand fists in Armie’s shirt, the other in his hair trying to pull him closer still and then holding him there. They had probably wanted it to be sweet but with both of their desperation piled up things get heated very fast. Timmy’s head is spinning and the only thing that’s clear is Armie’s mouth, their tongues between them and the realisation they have each other. He makes a keen noise and bites into Armie’s top lip soaking up the moan with a slight chuckle. Right now, all of this is his to own, to taste, to love.

Armie leans into it—how could he not—and moves his hands to frame Timmy's face. Sighing, he trails his lips down his jaw, backing him up until he's pressed to the fridge. Nothing prepared him for how easy it would be to fall into this with Timmy; he had been sure somewhere in his chest he'd feel guilt, but all he feels is warm. His body presses against Timmy's and he nips his ear, whispering, "God I missed you, _so much._ " He kisses him on lips once more, pressing his forehead against Timmy's after to catch his breath for a moment.

Timmy can’t stop a breathless little chuckle. “Welcome in the club.” He reaches up and traces Armie’s features with his forefinger, watches how his eyes fall shut and he leans into the touch. He feels the urge to kiss him again so he does because he can. When he pulls back, a little more breathless again, he says, “We should probably talk about this.” But it’s like his lips are drawn to Armie’s jaw, need to kiss down to his neck and nibble softly at the skin.

 _Talk,_ right, with words, and breathing, and definitely _not_ using lips for other things. Armie nods but makes no move to stop Timmy. "Probably," he murmurs, a hand falling from Timmy's neck to his waist. Talking meant telling him everything, and he wanted to of course, but it also made him nervous. He knows nothing he could say would derail what he had with Timmy now, that nothing would stop them from trying to be together... But perhaps that's exactly what made him so nervous. Being with Timmy felt monumental, and that was nerve wracking. "I don't know where to start," he admits, leaning down so he can let his head fall alongside Timmy's face.

Timmy turns his face and kisses his cheek. “That’s okay. Let’s just- let’s sit down.” He moves him to the couch and snuggles into his side. “I know that you fought, that you stood up to her-“ he pauses. “Because of me and because of you? And I know she pressured you into agreeing to couples therapy and that I sent Nick over after we talked but that’s it.” He explains. “You went to that therapy session and next thing I know you’re coming to New York with the kids.”

Armie's quiet for a moment. "It was the fight that never ended, I swear." He looks at Timmy and smiles sadly, lifting a hand to his cheek and resting it there for a moment, soaking up the opportunity. He isn't sure how affectionate they could be when his children woke up. "She was angry, she had every right to be, but it wasn't just about us. It was about everything I ever did, it got bad...I think she knew she wasn't going to convince me to stay, so she got brutal." Armie pulls Timmy closer and presses a kiss against his jaw, letting himself linger for a moment, stealing comfort now that he can. He didn't really want to think about her anymore, but it was important Timmy understand what it took to get to this point—it might affect their future, she's the mother of Armie's children after all. He retreats and looks off to the side, lost in thought. "I think I have to tell you what happened in Austin," he whispers. "Why I left you." The memory washes over him and he tightens his arm around Timmy. "What she said, I mean. I walked away and you didn't deserve that, not when I...not when all I wanted was to stay. She told me that..." He sighs and wonders why it's difficult to say when he's there with him, when it's the past, when it shouldn't matter anymore. "She knows my weak spots," he tells Timmy. "She used them against me, and it had nothing to do with how I felt about you, it had _everything_ to do with my anxiety about all this and the more she talked the more I worried about you leaving me first." He looks at Timmy and offers a mirthless shrug. He allows himself to pause and look at him, to _really_ look and see the unabashed love in his eyes, the softness of his gaze, the devotion. He leans in and presses his lips against his for a brief moment, butterflies lifting him with the slight contact just knowing it was real. "She kept using that against me, my anxiety. But she was angry, so it spiraled I guess, I don't know. She was hurt. I knew that if I didn't do damage control she could take the kids for good so I agreed to therapy. That's when you come in," he smiles softly. "My knight in shining armor, sending Nick in like that to keep me sane."

“Did you really think I could just go back to my daily business after you nearly broke down? I was so scared you’d have a panic attack and there’d be nothing I could do. So I needed to know someone was physically there to support you and keep you sane.” He explains and catches Armie's hand, entwines their fingers. “Maybe I was also just practising for The King this summer.” He teases and winks. “I hope from now on you can tell me everything and that I will resume my position as your protector.” They settle into silence for a moment each of them lost in their thoughts. “You were so strong, _are_ so strong and I need you to know how endlessly proud I am of you.” He whispers and kisses him again. “No buts!” He threatens. “Trust me on that.”

Armie chuckles and sinks into the couch, his head tilted so he can look at Timmy. Slowly, Armie was starting to see that he had people who would go to bat for him even in the worst times, people who would love him no matter what happened, who he was, what he chose to reveal. Timmy was a big part of that, his best friend, the keeper of his secrets, his _protector._ "I talked about my anxiety," he tells him with a small smile. "At therapy. It felt really fucking good. And you—we talked about you. I think she was rooting for us, to be honest. God, I don't even know how long I talked about you, she should have told me to shut up," he jokes softly.

Timmy smiles so bright you can see his teeth as he imagines Armie with the look he had right now. He’s sure Armie is exaggerating but she had apparently realised where Armie wanted to be at that moment. Timmy surges up and seals their lips together again; they have to get a grip on that before the kids wake up. “I’m so proud and so in love, you have no idea.” He tells him and cups his cheek, rubbing it affectionately. He’s still excited but the realisation that Armie is really here is slowly setting in and he can’t fight a yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry... it’s just- I couldn’t really sleep last night.” He apologises.

Armie brushes his nose against Timmy's and smiles. "It's okay, we can take a nap if you want. The kids should get up in about an hour or their entire sleep schedule will be completely fucked, but I can take care of that. I'll set an alarm or something," he says, running his fingers through Timmy's hair and twisting into his curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him back in for another kiss. "Do you have another blanket?" he whispers against his lips. It's reckless, he knows, to take a nap with him on the couch when his kids could wake up at any moment and see them. He's not sure they would care, though—they'd seen Ashton and Nick crash on their couches enough times, maybe it would just seem normal. All of this is new; Armie has no idea what the protocol is here for how to act around kids when you start integrating your—

Armie smiles softly, pressing the anxious energy away from him as he allows himself to think the word for the first time. _Boyfriend._ His chest tightens and he knows there would come a time when he'd have to deal with the anxiety accompanying the word, but for now he focuses on the good that comes with it and tries to enjoy every second.

Timmy shakes his head. “There’s usually no need to.” He admits. “We could crawl in with the kids. The bed is big enough.” He suggests and turns to look where they are still sleeping. Armie's remark makes him realise that they are not only responsible for themselves. As much as he’d just sleep through the day and cuddle in Armie in bed that wouldn’t be possible. It’s strange. He’d never thought about being trusted with such a young life before. Occasionally yes, but should this all turn out like they wanted to and they were in for the long haul then this would be permanent. He’d have to reshape his life style to fit two children. Timmy isn’t too afraid he'll miss out, he loves the two to bits already but it’s strange. How would this work in the long run? Something to worry about when he’s not dizzy with sleep, he realises. He stands up and tiptoes over. He gets out of his uncomfortable jeans and shirt and pulls out sweatpants and Armie's sweater. Bundled up he quietly lifts the covers and slips underneath waiting for Armie to join him.

Armie watches in wonder as Timmy settles in quietly, Ford reaching out almost from instinct until his little hand connects with Timmy's arm. His eyes slip shut momentarily, a hundred dreams coming to life before him. If he was honest with himself, he never thought they would be here. Even a week ago, even when he told him he loved him, he didn't think they'd survive to get here. He walks over to the bed slowly, as if he was capable of disrupting time and space with moving. He sees Harper fast asleep, Ford a little fussy with the shift in the bed, his hand on Timmy clenching into a fist and releasing. He watches Timmy's hair fall into his eyes, his own sweater too big and worn just like it was in Austin. _My heart._ As long as he lived, he wanted this image imprinted on every memory he made. Nothing would ever compare to the overwhelming warmth that rushes through his heart at seeing the three of them cuddled under covers as light threatened to stream in through Timmy's curtains. _My love, my love, my love._

He sets an alarm and takes his shoes off before slipping into bed behind Timmy—the other side of the bed was fully occupied by Harper who, being presented with a large surface area to sleep, decided to starfish and take up an absurd but adorable amount of space. Carefully, he lets his arm drape over Timmy, his eyes slipping shut with a smile against Timmy's neck. He pulls the blanket up over them some more and relaxes against him.

Timmy smiles, can feel the love coming from in Armie in waves. Ford shifts so Timmy pulls him closer and mumbles something soothing, kisses the crown of his head. The boy settles into his chest easily enough and Timmy feels proud. _There we go. How hard can it be?_ He makes a surprised noise when the hand with which Armie is holding him tightens. There’s a tremble going through the body behind him and he can feel a wetness in his neck before lips press there softly for a moment. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no reason to cry.” He assures him. “You’re home now.” He takes Armie's hand and places his fingers between his and bring it up to hold Ford against his chest, lets him truly hold his family now. Except for Harper, of course, who’s more than content with taking up as much space as she can.

Armie buries his face closer to Timmy's neck and presses another kiss against him. He had no idea, _no clue_ that he wanted this so much until it was happening all around him, in his arms, in Timmy's apartment, in their now shared space, his son tucked safely against Timmy. When he was younger, he'd had this image of family and what that meant, though even then he knew his understanding of what it meant to have family was flawed and incomplete. He hadn't even realized that his definition of family wasn't universal until he was old enough for it to have already done damage, his perceptions set, paradigms inescapable. Or so he thought. Timmy changed that, changed _everything_.

He drifts off thinking of Timmy's smile and wakes when Harper enthusiastically is pushing arms and legs, complaining about not getting to snuggle, too. It nearly brings him to tears as she taps their arms to let her in, too, whining when Ford swats at her. He's not sure how long any of them have been awake, but the sight is overwhelming, and he finds he can't quite speak.

Timmy grumbles a little at the amount of actions. There is really no reason to be so active so soon. He only had a little over an hour of sleep and feels ready to pass out again. "No fighting." He mumbles. "We can all share." But Harper wants to be in his arms _now,_ so Timmy rolls around and puts Ford into Armie's arm. The girl is on him in a second and groans at her plunging down on his chest roughly. "Hops," he mumbles with closed eyes, eyelids still too heavy. "Let's play a game. Who can be silent the longest, wins." He says and holds his breath hoping for it to work. she is silent but only for a short moment. "That's a stupid game." She declares. Timmy whines and turns his face to hide in Armie's shoulder. "Just five more minutes." He begs and hugs Harper to his chest tightly hoping to at least hold her still like that.

Armie smiles fondly though his eyes are only half open as well. "Welcome to parenthood," he whispers, laughing softly. Ford climbs on Armie until he can stand, making all sorts of noise—Armie knows in an instant he probably needs to be changed, and they all needed to eat something. He touches Harper's cheek with a smile and before he can think better of it, before Ford starts throwing a tantrum, he grabs his phone and takes a picture first of his view, and then of all of them, Timmy sleepily smiling against him, Harper hiding her face in his chest, Ford staring off in the distance. He instantly wants it framed. "Okay, buddy. Let's get you changed," he says with a kiss on Ford's cheek, eliciting a grin and him tumbling forward until he rests his head against Armie's shoulder. His alarm goes off then as if to reaffirm the need to move and he turns it off before lifting Ford in his arms and swinging his legs off the bed to find his diaper bag.

Timmy closes his eyes feeling safe and content. _Parenthood._ It sounds so strange in his own ears but Armie isn't wrong. He just wishes he wouldn't start this project off with only one hour of sleep.

"Are we going to the zoo, Timmy?" Harper asks turning in his embrace and kicking her little feet.

"Dunno." Timmy mumbles.

"You have to wake up! It's light outside." She scolds him and pulls at the collar of his sweater.

Timmy grumbles again and catches her little hands, blinking his eyes open. "Who are you to tell me what to do, huh?" he teases before attacking her with tickles. She shrieks and jumps from the bed running off. Timmy climbs after her and soon enough he's more awake than he likes. He catches her before she reaches the corner with the kitchen and picks her up. "Got you!" he brags and enjoys her cute giggles. He might as well make some coffee while he's in the kitchen. He props her up on his hip and gets to work.

Now that Ford can walk, it's infinitely more difficult to change him, but Armie makes due. He sets up a little changing area and blows raspberries on Ford's stomach to help keep him from fussing too much, but he still whines when Armie won't let him get up after a moment. He coos at him, trying to keep him distracted, but he knows he'll probably just cry anyway. He hated being changed and little could change his attitude. When he's done, Armie gives him a big kiss on his cheek and lets him wander around while he looks for some fresh clothes to put him in, his breath catching when he goes to find him with clothes in hand, seeing Timmy in the kitchen with his kids. The smell of coffee fills him and he's transported to another life, except it's not another life, it's _this_ life, and it's his, it's all his. He leans against the doorway and watches them in the moments before they notice him and thinks again of how desperately in love he truly is.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nici and I haven't talked about a posting schedule for this yet but I'm assuming we'll probably just keep up the Sunday updates, maybe midweek ones as well especially if we have chapters ready!

Timmy chuckles when Ford runs into his legs and then fists his hands into the pant leg. "Hey buddy. Made it out alive despite your expectations?" He asks and puts Harper down to pick him up instead. Ford babbles something and pulls Timmy's hair. "Ouch! What was that for?" He shakes his head.

 

"Morning daddy! Did you sleep good?" Harper asks, not leaving Timmy's side.

At that Timmy turns and sees Armie in the doorway. The amount of love in his eyes makes him blush and he has to look at the ground for a moment. "Coffee?" he asks, and pours them each a cup, begging him closer as he holds one out for him. Harper jumps up and down feeling left out so Armie has to pick her up before getting his coffee. Timmy carefully takes a sip of his own. "Is this how you imagined it would be?" he asks quietly, bouncing Ford slightly to keep him occupied.

 

Armie smiles over his mug and takes a long sip before lowering it. "Better," he whispers. Harper stares into his mug and declares she's hungry, making him chuckle a little. "Okay, okay, I get it. Breakfast time," he says while tickling her side. He puts his mug down on the counter and rests his hand on Timmy's arm as he passes, squeezing slightly because it's all he can do, and opens the fridge. Thankfully, Timmy had some basics, so he takes out the eggs and puts them on the counter before lowering Harper and turning to ask Timmy where his pans were. He stops when he notices him staring and feels warmth run through his blood. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be looked at like that, with awe, love. He smiles and asks his question, walking over to place a hand on Ford's back, taking him in his arms when he reaches for him at the contact. He stays close to Timmy, using it as an excuse to brush shoulders and steal moments.

 

Timmy has to hide his face behind his coffee mug for a moment. "I can get it." He offers but doesn't move. From where he stands he can feel Armie's warmth, can smell him, hear his breathing. It's simultaneously overwhelming and not enough. He has to bite his lip. "Alright," he mumbles to himself and put his mug on the counter, forcing himself to move. He can't quite stop the twirl when he walks over to the cabinet and throws a look over his shoulder to catch Armie's gaze, nearly stumbling in the process. His face heats up at his own clumsiness. "Riiight. Pan." He gets one out but messes up the first egg right away. He curses under his breath. He's clearly not focused. Hearing a deep chuckle and feeling Armie come over to stand right beside him isn't exactly helpful either though. _Bastard. Amazing, lovable bastard._

 

 _At least I'm not the only one distracted,_ Armie thinks, letting his hand rest on Timmy's back for the briefest moment, knowing it would make things worse and better simultaneously. Harper dances around the kitchen asking for them to watch her as Armie takes the pan from Timmy's grip, his hand closing over his until Timmy moves, almost in a haze. Armie smirks at him and tries to memorize the look on his face, the feeling in his own chest. This was more than he ever thought they'd be allowed, and the fact that it wasn't a one time thing made him dizzy with love. "Let me," he tells him, trying to pass Ford over but giving up when he grips Armie's shirt and whines. Sometimes the kids were full of energy in the mornings, other times they only wanted cuddles. There was rarely an in between, but today they were two sides of the spectrum. Armie finishes making some scrambled eggs one handed and realizes they don't have a high-chair here; they'd have to fix that. He adds it to his mental note of items to get today and decides Ford would be fine sitting on his lap this morning anyways. "Plates?" he asks Timmy, turning the stove off.

 

Timmy blinks and finds back into reality. "Yes, of course." He walks over and hands Harper the plates who helps putting them on the table, one by one. He handles the cutlery himself and then gets some toast and jam. "Here we go." He fills the plates before nodding into Ford's direction. "What about him? Do you need me to warm anything up or-?" He shrugs. "I'm sorry I haven't been around lately. I don't know how much he has developed already. I don't have much experience." He reaches up and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly before remembering he had bought juice for Hops and getting a glass for her.

 

Armie walks over to one of their bags and says, "I told you, I got it." He pulls out some Puffs, a small container of applesauce, and a banana. "He can eat the eggs but I don't know if he will, he's pretty easy in the mornings to be honest." Ford lunges for the Puffs container as Armie walks over to the table. He turns Ford around and sits him on his thigh when he sits down. He grabs a plate Timmy had Harper bring over for food and pours some of the Puffs out and Ford grabs two with his hands, stuffing one into his mouth with a little dance. Armie smiles fondly at him and glances up to see Timmy watching. "Oh man, I brought a little spoon, it's in the pocket of the bag I just got these out of—can you grab it?" he turns his attention to Harper and sees that she's already eating the eggs, humming to herself and watching it all. He can see her mind working but doesn't ask what she's thinking off...he's not sure he wants to know just yet.

 

Timmy walks over to the bag and gets the spoon. "Uhm, can I try?" he asks kneeling next to the chair so he's more or less eye-level with Ford. "Hey buddy," he says and scoops a spoon full up. "Time to eat!" he declares and moves the spoon closer to his mouth. Ford's eyes are fastened on his face and he watches Timmy's antics with great interest but his mouth stays firmly shut. Instead he grabs another handful. Timmy catches his hand. "No, we are eating with the spoon now." He tries to explain softly and nudges it against his lips. Ford shakes his head stubbornly. Disappointed Timmy sighs. "Oh well, I shouldn't have expected too much." He hands Armie the spoon for whom Ford opens his mouth right away. Timmy _tries_ not to be petty over this but it's hard.

 

Armie hides a smile and watches Timmy sit down, Ford gripping Armie's wrist and making a noise that means _more._ "Try not to take it personally," he says softly, scooping up another spoonful and giving it to Ford. "When he decides to be clingy, he's _clingy._ " Armie takes a bit of the eggs on his plate and rolls his eyes with a smile as Ford decides now he wants _that_ food, too. "Hops, you good? How's the juice?" She could get jealous sometimes and he didn't want whatever balance they miraculously found this morning to be disrupted. He takes another bite before saying, "Oh! I was thinking we needed to grab some stuff before tonight so they don't have to share the bed. Maybe we can get some stuff delivered, I'll look into it."

 

Timmy nods. "I would've done that already but it's probably better if you help me. We could all go shopping together." He suggests.

 

"Yesss!" Harper lifts both of her arms spraying scrambled eggs. "Let's go shopping! Can I get something?" She asks Armie with big eyes. He tilts his head to the side and shrugs a little as he opens his mouth probably about to explain that _maybe, depends_ but she has already given up on him and turned to Timmy instead. "Timmy, can I get a new toy?" She asks him instead. She has gathered that Armie would apparently rather listen to Timmy.

 

"Uhm..." Timmy is overwhelmed by the responsibility he suddenly feels. This is educating. He tries to come up with a diplomatic answer. He couldn't screw this up. Until he's found the right word she'd already climbed into his lap. "Please." She begs.

It's hard to resist right then. He wants her to like him after all but he has to remember that he's now like a parent to her and he has to start acting like it, too. "Depends. Maybe if you're a good girl." He points out, hoping this is the right thing to do.

 

She pouts and jumps on the ground. "You two are no fun at all!" She yells and storms off.

Timmy looks after her helplessly before searching for Armie's gaze to find out whether he'd done something wrong.

 

Armie smiles softly when Timmy meets his gaze, his heart swelling. He nods a little and calls over to Harper. "Sweetie, if you don't finish breakfast, we can't go to the store. You can choose your own blanket at the store if you want, but only if you finish—" She's already ran back to the table and climbed up on her chair, pushing her hair behind her ears and picking up her fork. She looks straight at him when she fills it with food, making sure he sees. "Good," he nods at her before returning his attention to Timmy. "You were great," he whispers, hiding another smile. He feeds Ford a bit more until he doesn't seem to want anything and is yelling to be let down. Armie glances around the apartment and smiles brightly when he sees it's been baby proofed. He lets Ford down and turns back to his own food, taking a large bite and glancing up at Harper and Timmy. He has a surreal moment of, _this is my life now,_ and he can't stop feeling like he'd been waiting an eternity for this.

 

Timmy can't help but feel proud at Armie's praise. He'd need his guidance for a bit longer. They finish breakfast in peace then and send Harper to pick out clothes for the day. "It's okay, I'm gonna clean up and you take care of her." He assures Armie. For the first time he regrets having moved into a studio. In a regular flat he could've gotten away with stealing a kiss. Armie's gaze is still so _fond_ it's incredibly hard to look at him which is exactly why Timmy can't look away. Who thought it'd be easy with the kids around? Who had actually thought it'd be easy to stop themselves from touching and kissing? It's exhausted to be trapped again already. Timmy clears his throat. He has no idea what limits Armie had set himself in front of the kids, when he'd planned to tell him. Timmy could not wait for the day so that they at least could be a little affectionate in here.

 

Sometimes Armie wondered at whether or not they still had as strong of a mental connection as they did in Crema—usually when they spent time apart—but moments like this reassure him that nothing has changed; he can see Timmy's thoughts all across his face. Without a doubt, he understands this was her intention all along—to send him off to Timmy with two human road blocks to their affection. He's determined to have the kids be a bonus to his visit, not a deterrent, though. He stands and helps Harper dress and then has Ford follow him to the bathroom to wash his face from breakfast. When they walk out, he goes to his suitcase and takes out some fresh clothes to change into. "I'm going to change in the bathroom, keep an eye on them?" he calls out to Timmy before closing the door behind him.

 

And just like that Timmy is alone with them. He knows it shouldn’t be a problem, knows that it’s technically nothing new but he’s somehow nervous all the same. Both of them are occupied with their toys so he simply sits down with them. Harper has started a puzzle right away and makes a determined face. Ford is playing with some of her dolls and it’s peaceful. He lies down between them and watches them until his eyelids simply grow to heavy he has to close them for a few seconds.

 

When Armie emerges, he chuckles at the sight. He kicks Timmy's foot with his own lightly and smiles at him when he opens his eyes. "Alright, Hops, let's get your shoes." He makes no move, though, watching Timmy sit up and shifting his eyes to Ford who seems content but stands and wanders over to Harper to distract her from pulling socks on her feet. She grabs her shoes and tosses them at Armie before walking over and tapping his leg. "Help me, Daddy," she says and he finally moves, sitting down and helping her with putting them on and tying them.

 

Timmy yawns and rubs his eyes. “I swear I only closed my eyes for a second.” He should’ve slept last night, he realises and pulls himself up. “I don’t know how you do this.” He complains and leans against Armie’s side watching him tie her shoelaces. “I just want to go to sleep.” Ford walks over, jealous of all the attention falls into Timmy’s lap. “If you guys wouldn’t be so charming.” He says and picks him up lifting him above his head before bringing him down to nuzzle and kiss his cheek. Only then he realises he should’ve asked first. They are not his kids after all and he doesn’t want them or Armie being weirded out.

 

Armie finishes tying Harper's shoes and then pats Timmy's leg. "It's okay, it's an adjustment, I know." Harper looks between them and asks why they have to go shopping. "Because, Hops. I told you. We're staying here, and I want you to have a bed to sleep in tonight. Ford, too." He glances around the room and knows there wouldn't be much space, but they'd figure something out. He turns back to Timmy and says, "If you need to stay back and sleep, that's okay. Seriously. Let me know your limits, I don't want this to overwhelm you more than it needs to." He worried a little about him adjusting when he was already tired, but hopes it's just the poor night's sleep he got last night. He squeezes his leg a little and withdraws his hand before it lingers too long, opting instead to run it through his hair.

 

Those little touches are driving him crazy. It’s never enough. But he shakes his head. “I wanna go with you.” He stands up and gets dressed himself. “Are you coming, old man?” Of course, it’s not that easy. They have to strap in Ford into his stroller first of all. Timmy takes one of Harper’s hands feeling prouder than ever when he enters the streets of New York with the three of them at his side.

 

Armie's careful to keep some space between them as they walk, knowing at any moment they could be photographed and there was absolutely no way it wasn't going to be talked about as a family outing. He wonders idly if this will be it—the last straw that finally makes the media ask the questions they'd been dancing around for a year now. He can't think too much about that, not now; it was a problem for another day. It takes them longer than necessary to get where they're going with the stroller and an overeager Harper, but Timmy holds her when it's crowded and Armie's grateful. They finally arrive at the store they wanted and Armie asks the front desk about delivery, relieved when they say it can be arranged, _especially for you._ He fights the urge to roll his eyes at the acknowledgement of his fame and knows immediately that he would be photographed here, with Timmy and his children, buying beds. They wander through aisles and start grabbing things they know they need, but Armie can't take it. He pulls them towards a more secluded isle and grabs Timmy's arm. "I'm freaking out, the media is going to have a field day over this. I just need a minute or they'll see it all over my face." He closes his eyes but doesn't let go of Timmy as he takes a few deep breaths. Then he takes out his phone and takes a picture of Harper staring at linens and puts it on his Instagram story. Taking charge of the situation and controlling the narrative is the only thing he can think to do. This shouldn't cause anxiety, he reminds himself, and tries to let go of what other people would think (they wouldn't be wrong, after all) and enjoy time with them.

 

Just to hear Armie admit that he’s panicking makes Timmy feel proud. Armie doesn’t have a problem to tell him that and trusts him to make it better and understand. “It’s ok.” He assures him and touches his arm, squeezing it reassuringly. “Do you want me to post something as well? They’ll probably find out either way, right?” He asks and leans into his side for a moment, reassuring him that he’s here to catch him.

 

"I don't know, I can't think about it. Post if you want, I guess." Armie glances around and lets his eyes land on Harper who watches them quietly. This is his family now, and worrying isn't going to help anything. There would be stories and accusations, but they didn't have to dwell on any of it if they didn't want to. He tells himself this and tries to believe it, gives a smile to Harper and adds, "Post something, let them know. You're right, they'll figure it out anyway."

 

Timmy smiles and squeezes his arm one more time. “Alright. I’ll see when a moment comes up.” They walk through the department filled with beds and they all look and feel like heaven to Timmy. But Ford is slowly waking up and kicking in his stroller. Harper is trying to convince Armie of a particular bed so Timmy takes him out, putting him down on his feet. The toddler stands between his legs, one hand fisted into his pant leg, the other stuffed into his mouth and looks around curiously. Timmy doesn’t think long but pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of their feet. Ford’s hand is also still visible and he wonders for a moment if it would be too intimate but then just rolls with it. ‘ _it’s not just money, it’s happiness_ ’ he adds as a quote. There’s never a wrong time to quote Frank Ocean. He posts it on his story before turning his attention back on Harper and Armie. Taking Ford’s hands he walks over to them making sure he doesn’t run off.

 

Armie doesn't notice, too distracted trying to help Harper choose some stuff without letting her go out of control. He gets a text not long after Timmy returns to his side, and he smiles down at Ford as he pulls his phone out to look at it. He pauses mid stride when he sees it's from Elizabeth: _Fuck you. Are you buying an apartment? Jesus. Could you at least be a little more respectful you are STILL MARRIED._ Armie looks up at Timmy and feels his blood pressure rising. He puts his phone back in his pocket and opts to reply when he recovers. He walks back to Timmy and presses his hand against his back for a moment, begging the contact to soothe him as he swallows hard and turns his attention back to his kids and drops his hand, trying to focus on the good. Ford was clinging to Timmy's leg, the image filling him with love, his fingers wrapped around one of Timmy's as he leans down a little to let him hold on. He knows in an instant that Timmy sees through him, but he shakes his head and pushes the stroller, flagging someone down who works there about getting the little toddler bed they had been looking at brought to the front so they could have it delivered.

 

Timmy doesn’t like the slightly wary expression on Armie’s face. He’s trying his best to hide it but Timmy sees it. Armie doesn’t want to feel like that but of course he does. They choose a high chair next, Ford at least is happy to try them all out. That’s of course when a young man approaches them, visibly shy. “Uhm excuse me, I’m so sorry for intruding but aren’t you the guys from Call Me by Your Name?” Armie and Timmy exchange a glance. “I loved the movie. Made me a lot more confident about who I am you know? Anyway, I was wondering if we could take a quick selfie together?” Timmy’s expression is wary. People had probably figured out they are shopping together but might this not be a step too far? He lets Armie decide, he’s the one with obligations and a spouse. “I didn’t know you two were are a couple. I never really looked into it but that’s cool. Good job at representing our community.” The guy grins and he sees Armie visibly paling. This is a step he’s not ready for yet, he realises. “And what a cute family you have. Neil Patrick got nothing on you two.”

 

Timmy knows he needs to end this now and steps forward. “No selfie, sorry. It’s a quiet day for us and we are not a couple. Just two friends. I’m glad you liked the movie though.” Timmy gives him a disarming smile seeing him blush and stutter before excusing himself. Then he turns back to Armie. “Hey, you okay? Need to sit down for a moment?” He asks concerned. “They have excellent high-chairs here.” He jokes, hoping to lighten the mood.

 

Armie's chest is too tight and he knows Timmy's concerned, that his own children would be concerned, but he can't help it that the stranger's words have numbed him. He nods slowly, blinks with great effort, and tries to fill his lungs with steady and deep breaths through his nose. The stroller was still in his grip which tightens now, allowing him something tangible to hold onto. He knew it was coming, of course he did. It was only a matter of time—hell, he'd been trying to prepare for it ever since Sundance when it became apparent that everyone immediately fell in love with the two of them, particularly together. Still, it leaves him breathless to think someone believed they were a couple. _Aren't we, though,_ he wonders. His eyes drift to Harper and he tries to conceal his face for her. She'd been too quiet since they got in the store and he feared she was absorbing everything. "What's wrong?" she asks, twirling slightly and reaching for his hand, overwhelming him entirely. She'd never seen him like this, so vulnerable and open. It had to disarm her—this entire trip had to, it was all a different side of him he was showing his children.

 

"Nothing, Hops," he reassures her. "Let's finish shopping and get some lunch, how does that sound?" She eyes him for a moment but the promise of food is more important than the look on his face, so she smiles and walks forward, pulling him along. She was smart for her age, but she was still only three and didn't quite grasp his distress yet, something he's thankful for now. He looks over at Timmy and lets out a deep sigh, wishing desperately that he could wrap his arms around him and stop feeling like he was walking on eggshells. How did he get here, how did he get to this place where he was vulnerable in public and emotional? It's unfamiliar and unsettling, though he supposes this is Timmy's everyday experience, his heart out for the world to see, unashamed, unapologetic for his feeling.

 

Timmy knows going to a public restaurant would only make things worse now. So he has to come up with something else. At his place they'd have to be cautious about the kids again so he gets his phone out. "I think I have an idea." He tells Armie and shoots Pauline a text asking whether she can get more food for lunch. Thankfully she understands right away that they need her to distract the kids a little. It really is not easy to balance their reunion and becoming a proper family straight away. "We are going to Pauline's." He declares and Armie looks at him with awe again before he starts to complain that they can't do this to her. "We can and we will. She was looking forward to see us all anyway." He has to pick up Ford then because he can't walk for that long yet. They check out and are so close to making it out without getting spotted by a paparazzi but apparently luck isn't on their side. The camera flashes several times and Timmy blinks. He's still not used to this. "Hey Timmy, Armie, why are you buying kids stuff? Is Timmy going to be a father? Who's the mother then? How long are you staying in New York, Armie? Where's your wife?" The guy starts firing questions at them.

 

Armie doesn't even think—like instinct, he begins taking charge. "Head down, _follow me,_ " Armie says, grabbing Harper and hiding her face in his shoulder. "Put him in the stroller and pull the visor down, _now_ ," he says quietly, then turning back to them with more strength in his voice so they can hear, "Not long, scouting places for when we come in the summer—Elizabeth had some stuff to tend to in LA," he says with a charming smile. Timmy does as he's told while Armie speaks and then they're walking down towards the next shop entrance where Armie pulls him into quickly before he's tempted to answer any other questions with force. They go straight to the back and Armie feels adrenaline shooting through his veins. It isn't long before someone approaches them and asks if they'd like to use the back entrance; this wasn't the first time he'd had to do this, and usually someone approached with this solution. He nods and flashes a brilliant smile, throws an overly charismatic _thank you so much_ at the girl until she motions for them to follow her. _So the mask still works,_ he thinks absentmindedly, trying to focus on the issue at hand. He doesn't dare look at Timmy, fearing what he might find in his eyes or perhaps the way he always seemed to strip him bare of his masks these days, and Armie _needed_ his mask right now.

 

Timmy is glad to have Armie's guidance in this situation. This is about saving the kids from the exposure and they couldn't fuck around there. They have a Lyft pick them up and drive them to Pauline's place. He's so thankful that she's in New York at the moment for a project. In the safety of the car Timmy wishes he could take his hand but the kids would see and he doesn't think they are ready for that yet. The drive is short and they try to calm down the irritated and scared kids. They'd both picked up on their fear and are unsure what to do now. There's only time for a short shared look which Armie escapes as soon as it starts. It makes Timmy's stomach turn and reminds him of Austin. Always with the masks. He understands this is the only way Armie had learnt to protect himself but it hurts him nonetheless.

 

Pauline buzzes the door open right away when they arrive and they take the elevator up. "Armie, Timmy, hey. You look like you've seen a ghost." She frowns at their expressions. She had expected them to be in bliss by being around each other finally. It's strange to see her brother with a baby on his arm knowing it would become a normal sight soon enough.

 

"Sorry paparazzi." Timmy mumbles and pulls her in a tight hug kissing her cheek. He steps inside then humming to Ford and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

 

"Hey Armie. Long time no see." She turns to him now.

 

"Pauline," he greets with a hug after putting Harper down. "You look lovely. And thank you so much for letting us come over," he says. His smile feels a little forced though he is genuinely happy and relieved to see a friendly face (hopefully that's what she is, a _friendly_ face, considering the last time she saw him he'd just made out with Timmy and basically gotten caught toying with his heart). He walks inside and lets Harper explore on her own while he walks into the living room. Turning, he looks at Timmy for the first time and takes in the sight of him gently rocking Ford, his arms wrapped around him and the boy's eyes searching the apartment. "Is he okay? Do you want me to take him?" he asks Timmy softly, taking a stride towards them and reaching out tentatively but dropping his arm, not wanting to disrupt the calm Ford's found in his arms.

 

Timmy smiles up at him. "I think we are fine." He says softly not wanting to disturb him. He's so glad Ford really just had a clingy moment this morning. "Isn't that right? Everything is fine now." He mumbles to him.

 

Pauline watches quietly from the doorway. So, her brother is really a dad now, or becoming one more or less. She doesn't doubt he can manage it, though. He's more mature than most people twice his age and Armie would help him where he lacks experience. He seems so in awe at Timmy that there's no doubt about his love for him. But that's not why they came here. "Should I take him for a moment so you get a moment to breathe?" She asks and walks closer.

Timmy is wary to let him go but knows he has to talk to Armie, get an opportunity to be there for him. So he hands him off. Ford fusses for a moment reaching out for Timmy and letting out soft whines. He kisses his hands and promises to carry him again later.

 

"No sex on my couch." Pauline whispers to him before walking out of the room with a grin and closing the door behind her. Thank God she hadn't gotten a studio as well.

 

Armie stares at the door for a moment, letting everything settle, not the least of which his heart. His eyes slip shut with a sigh, the weight of the paparazzi's questions and the fan's assumptions holding him down. With no one else to see, he allows it to fill him and abuse him until he's sick with worry, turning towards Timmy, knowing he would wrap him up in his arms. Elizabeth had told him this would hurt their children, that the reputation and accusations would do more harm than he knew. He thought he'd moved beyond the fear that she was right, but here he is, terrified he's messed up already. His hands slide over Timmy's frame until he's holding him close, his lips finding his breathlessly. He has to remind himself that this is good, that this is what he wants, needs. That it's worth the shit storm that would come when the media realized he wasn't here to look for a family apartment for the summer.

 

Timmy's hands come up and cup his face as they kiss, holding him carefully. "It's okay." He mumbles, kisses him again. Armie had just let his mask fall again for him and Timmy recognises the effort and the trust which it required. "They will always ask questions, they will always make assumptions." He points out and stirs him over towards the couch. "I'm here." He pushes Armie down to sit and straddles his lap. "But Armie, you need to decide what we tell the kids. I can't even hold your hand in front of them and it's _killing me_." He points out. "If you don't want to tell them yet, that's fine of course." Leaves a door open should he decide to return to LA. Timmy kisses him again then to banish the thought from his mind. He wouldn't survive having had this and being told to forget it all.

 

Armie kisses him back, knowing they desperately needed to talk but that another moment where they'd be able to kiss might not happen so soon. His lips leave Timmy's in favor of his neck, his hands pulling him closer and slipping under his shirt to brush against his spine. It's a bit much, though; he rests his head against his shoulder and tries to breathe. "I don't know what to tell them. I'm so scared Hops will hate me, or hate you," he whispers. "I don't know what I'm doing, what if I fuck this up, Timmy?" He pulls back and moves his hands to Timmy's thighs. His eyes were kinder than even Armie remembered.

 

Timmy shakes his head. "No, no. There's no way to know. You have to trust your instincts. Your heart. This is a fucked up situation and no one knows what effect it will have. There's no manual to go by. If you want to back out at any point, get a hotel room. Just tell me. It's a lot. I'm sure you'd rather just be with the kids and figure yourself out. And I'm demanding all of your attention and making things even more complicated." He covers Armie's hands on his thighs and squeezes them. "I'm sorry." He mumbles. "I wish it would be easier, too."

 

"No, god, I don't want a hotel room—unless you want me to get one—seriously, if you want me to get one that's okay, I will. It's a lot for you, too." Armie turns his hands over so he can lace their fingers together. He didn't want it to be difficult, he wanted it to be easy and carefree, the same way it felt to hold hands with him in Austin. Harper at least loves Timmy, but he fears that when she realizes what's happened, she'll attach the divorce—because Armie is determined at this point that there w _ill be_ a divorce—to Timmy. He had to find a way for Timmy to become a part of the kids lives and routines without it feeling forced or like a takeover. It would just take some care, he thinks. He tugs Timmy's hands until he starts leaning against Armie's chest, and he sighs against his neck. "I love you," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on the skin there. "We just have to ease them into this, okay? Sleeping in the same bed is going to be odd enough for Harper to see. Though, I guess she didn't really seem phased earlier," he says with a small smile at the memory.

 

Unknowingly Timmy mirrors his expression. It had been only a tiny glimpse of what their life could look like. “I guess since we all shared it was less weird. But she’s a clever girl, she’s gonna ask questions and we’ll have to provide answers.” He explains and wraps his arms around him. “I love you.” He mumbles. He understand all the points Armie had made but with the kids around it would be hard to even find time to satisfy some base desires. Because Timmy is willing to wait, to take their time but he’s also only human and those blue eyes looking at him all day are doing things to him. “I don’t ever want you to leave again.” He confesses, kisses the skin just below his ear. “I want you to stay, to be with me, be mine.” He growls into Armie’s ear bites into his earlobe.

 

Armie's head lulls back to give him more access and he lets out a small breath, his hands pressing into Timmy's thighs. "I _am_ yours," he mumbles, trying to soak up the moment while he can. He had enough to worry about every other moment of the day—right now, he could just think about Timmy and how he'd fought to be here with him, to even have the _chance_ to weather the storm with him by his side. His hand lifts to Timmy's cheek and he pulls him closer, stealing kisses, paying only in sighs and touch, his fingers slipping into Timmy's hair and tugging slightly. The memory of the first time he did that to Timmy is enough to make him do it again, eager to test if every pull would illicit the same almost submissive eagerness it had the first time. It never got old, kissing Timmy, and he hoped it never would.

 

Timmy moans and tips his head back eagerly greeting the Armie’s tongue at his neck. He gasps at the teeth daringly nipping. “Armie, stop, we need to stop.” He tells him knowing it would be hard once they really started. He pulls Armie back and grins at him. “I love you.” He mumbles still more happy than anyone should be allowed to. “My favourite human.” He rakes his fingers through Armie’s hair.

 

Armie leans into the touch and takes a few deep breaths. "I'll talk to the kids, I will. I don't like pretending any more than you do, we just have to go slow." He watches Timmy's face and tries not to get lost in his eyes, noting the flecks of color in them and wondering if anyone had ever attempted to catalog the variations of them. He would, he thinks. In time. "In the meantime, you should get off me before I start kissing you again," he says with a smirk, his hand lifting to intertwine with one of Timmy's.

 

Timmy hums and grins cockily. “You’re not making very good arguments.” He points out and fists his free hand in Armie’s shirt and pulling him in until they’re only a breath apart. “All the things I’d do to you.” He mumbles and licks over his lips teasingly before slipping from his lap.

 

Armie groans and shifts his eyes over to Timmy, shaking his head slightly. "Tease," he mumbles with a smile. "I guess we should relinquish Pauline of hideout duty and get the kids something to eat." After standing, he glances back at Timmy and holds out a hand to help him up, letting the contact linger when he takes advantage of it. Armie presses his lips against Timmy's shoulder and drops his hand, walking over to the door Pauline disappeared behind.

 

Timmy runs after him and jumps on his back biting his shoulder. “You’re a tease yourself.” He accuses him sliding down before slipping under his arm to the door. “Gonna take care of our kids.” He says and walks into the kitchen. “Hey Hopsey!” He cheers and catches her in his arms when she comes running. “Are you hungry?” he asks and kisses her cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading and supporting this story!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone calls...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!!!   
> As always, this is fiction... but this chapter it is super important that yall remember these are characters of these people, that we don't actually know what they would say. These versions of them are fictitious and their parts are created to help progress the story and character arcs. Okay, proceed.

Armie stands a little stunned, watching Timmy and Harper interact. It wasn't new by any means; even the first time Harper met Timmy in Italy, she clung to him like he had always been a part of the family. Still, it leaves him breathless every time. Pauline approaches with Ford in her arms and he reaches out to take him, only to put him down a moment later when he points down. "Thank you, again," he tells Pauline. "I know this is kind of complicated, but I appreciate you taking us in like this. Even if it's just for lunch, and letting us have a minute you know," he says. There were so many people who were starting to step up and be there for them—it's flattering and comforting and somewhat unexpected, though it shouldn't have been.

Pauline shakes her head. “It’s fine. I get it’s not ideal with the kids around no matter how much you love them. You know our parents can probably take them for an afternoon so you get some _proper_ time together.” She shoots him a pointed look.

In that moment Timmy spots him out of the corner of his eyes how Ford tumbles into the direction of the table leg. “No!” He jumps to catch him but doesn’t manage.

Ford starts crying and sits down onto the floor, his arms lifting in the direction of Armie who's at his side in an instant. "Hey, hey, Ford. It's okay," he coos, picking him up and gently looking for damage. He's got a small cut on his forehead but is otherwise unharmed, though he continues to cry as if he's broken something. "Do you have a paper towel or something?" he asks Pauline as he rubs soothing circles on his back. "You're okay, buddy. Just a little scratch, you're okay," he smiles, wiping his tears before kissing the paths they've streaked down his cheeks. When Pauline returns with a damp towel, he gently dabs at Ford's head and hums softly to him.   
"Ford hit his head," Harper says, almost like a question. "Is he hurt?" Armie's still cooing at Ford and bouncing him gently, placing kisses on his head occasionally. "He's okay," he tells her, though he keeps the towel on his head—he knows enough about head injuries to know that even the most harmless cuts bled more than anywhere else, and he doesn't want them to worry. Pauline asks if he wants a bandaid and he nods; "That'd be great, if you don't mind."

Timmy is _devastated_. How could he not have noticed earlier? Why hadn’t he watched out for him? And now he’s _hurt_ because Timmy had been too careless. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He says and reaches out to touch his back.   
“Don’t curse!” Pauline shouts from where she’s looking for a bandaid.   
“Oh right. I’m not good at this yet. I’m so sorry. I should’ve paid more attention. This is my fault.”  He complains.

"Shh, it's not Timmy's fault, is it Ford?" Armie kisses his son again as his tears slow and he starts calming down. "Seriously, it's okay, it happens," he tells him, trying to lessen the distress on his face. "Also, if you freak out he will, too. So just...be calm, it's okay, really," he tells him, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm. Ford's crying is much quieter now and he leans heavily against Armie's shoulder, his thumb in his mouth and watery eyes looking at Timmy. Armie knows this is just one of those things Timmy would have to learn to live with—he has to remind himself that he's had years of experience as a father already, and Timmy had none. It would take time, he just had to find a way to convey that to Timmy.

Timmy sighs and leans into his shoulder. “Sorry, yeah, that makes sense. Ugh I wish I’d be as good at this as you.”   
Pauline comes back. “Look. I found one with peaches.” She says and holds it up triumphantly. “Here we go little warrior.” She says and motions for Armie to take the paper towel away. In one fluid motion she attaches it. “There you go. Now, who’s hungry?” She asks to lighten the mood.   
“Me!” Harper yells and jumps up and down, the distress of her brother forgotten.

Armie turns to follow but pauses and meets Timmy's eyes steadily. "I've had practice. Don't beat yourself up, you'll get there," he tells him softly. Ford's tears were drying now, his eyes still observing Timmy with interest. Armie glances towards the kitchen where Harper is helping Pauline get things set and then glances back to Timmy. His hand lifts to Timmy's heart and he rests it there for a moment before sliding it up and over his shoulder to pull him against him in a side hug. It doesn't last long but he hopes it helps a little. They wander in towards the kitchen table.

It does help. Armie’s reassurances help, Armie’s trust and belief in him help. Lunch is yet again filled with easy laughter and making a mess. Before they move on to dessert Ford is back on Timmy’s lap and he feels more confident again as he hugs the boy to his chest. “We should probably head back and get started on putting together the beds and the other stuff.” He points out. Besides this guy looks like he’s ready for a nap.” He points out as he looks down Ford sprawled in his arms, eyes closed, completely relaxed and trusting. It’s a miracle. Timmy can feel his heart flutter in his chest at the sight. _Father_? It seems more believable with every second.

"Yeah, you're right. It's about that time for both of them," Armie agrees, watching them with a smile. "Hops, let's get cleaned up and ready to go back to Timmy's place," he instructs. "You can stay there, I'll help her," he tells Timmy, not wanting to disrupt his time with Ford, sensing he might need it (not to mention, they were awfully adorable). While helping Harper get her shoes on, she asks him if Elizabeth was going to come visit soon, and his heart stops. The text. He never responded. "No, sweetie, you know Mom is staying in California while we're with Timmy." He pulls his phone out and without rereading her text, sends a quick, _Kids are doing well. They miss you. Let me know if you want to FT them later._ He can't even justify what she's said or he'll lose it. "You ready, Hops?" he asks with a somewhat forced smile.

She doesn’t pick up on the layers of his expression. Of course, she’s only three. “Yup.” They catch a Lyft home and by the time they arrive Ford is fast asleep and Harper on the brink of it. They settle them into bed and in lack for better things to do snuggle up on the couch. They can’t start on anything yet since it would make way too much noise so they stick to talking softly. Armie remembers that he’s supposed to call and they share a pair of headphones to FaceTime him.   
“Heeey, the newly weds! Good to see you’re still alive.” Nick says. He’s lounging in his own living room and grinning brightly at the picture of Timmy tucked under Armie’s arm so they can both fit into the picture.

"Alive? What's that supposed to mean?" Armie chuckles. He lets his fingers trace lazy patterns on Timmy's arm and shoulder, feeling warmth radiate from him. "We're managing, the kids are napping now. Big day in the big city, I guess they're all tuckered out," he smiles. "You ought to watch out though, I think Timmy's returned as Harper's favorite, he's knocked you down a peg."

Timmy chuckles feeling a slight blush rush on his cheeks knowing that Nick could see all of this, their easy domesticity. “Well, guess I’m not gonna be Ford’s fave after I let him drop face first into a table leg today.” His hand rests on Armie’s chest, a simple but effective possessive gesture.   
“Oh that happens all the time. I mean look at that father. The local hospital knows him well. You know he’s still that clumsy so I don’t think that actually had something to do with you,” Nick assures him. He likes how good they both look now that they are together.

"Told you," Armie smirks, nudging Timmy. "Also, I resent the commentary about my relationship with the hospital. They happen to be very nice people, maybe I go there because I just like to chat," he jokes, biting back a smile.   
"Ah, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. Hey that reminds me, since you seem to pay your 'friend' exorbitant amounts that appear like hospital bills, when am I getting paid next?" Nick throws back. Armie rolls his eyes and sinks a little closer to Timmy.   
"That fee is only for my real friends," Armie tells him, which Nick responds with a laugh.    
"God, it is _really_ good to see you happy, man. It's been awhile." Armie sobers at his words and tightens his arm around Timmy with a silent nod.

Timmy smiles and looks at Armie’s face for a moment. Nick is right. This is good for both of them. “I agree.” He says happily and melts against Armie’s side a bit more. “Do I need to inform the local hospitals then to expect you?” He asks teasingly although his stomach turns at the thought of a hurt Armie. He remembers when he’d torn his pectoral muscle. He’d freaked out a little. “We could save the money for hospital bills if I just kiss it better.” He suggests.   
“Ah get a room you two!” Nick shouts.   
“You know I wish we could but I moved into a studio so if we don’t lock ourselves in the bathroom there’s no privacy to have.” Timmy explains.   
“Oh well that explains a lot. You should get someone to look out for the kids while you get properly ‘settled in’ if you catch my drift.” He points out with a dirty grin.   
Nick is now the second one to suggest it and Timmy is excited to have alone time with Armie but imaging really having sex with him is somehow scary. It feels like they built up to it for two years now and it makes the pressure to have it be perfect impossibly high.

Armie rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the warmth spreading across his face as he scratches his stubble. "Anyway..." he says, trying to derail Nick. "Have you heard from her yet? She's pretty pissed at me, I think. Not that I'm engaging, I just—I know she thinks you're neutral, so...I don't need to worry about it, right?" Logically, Armie knows this topic is just as bad as the last, but he panicked and this had been in the back of his mind since they were shopping. He regrets bringing her up when Timmy stiffens at his side, though he knows he can't exactly take it back now. "Sorry," he mutters quietly for him.

“I haven’t seen her,” Nick admits. There’s no reason to search her out especially since he knows she’s probably made at him for the therapist. “But there’s no reason to worry here. I can fend for myself and I have Ash to back me up should things get ugly.” He assures him. He’s not scared of her. He wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.   
Timmy knows talking about her is still necessary but still even the mention of her makes him realise how fragile his happiness is here. He isn’t sure what he’s allowed to say about her so he keeps his mouth shut and snuggles into Armie's side for comfort.   
“Just keep in mind how happy you are right now. Never forget that. I somehow don’t believe she’s done yet.” Nick confesses. He would feel better if she had called him first thing after therapy and yelled at him. This radio silence makes him suspicious. “But you have each other now. That’s more power than she can ever have.” He explains. Elizabeth is just a hurt wife and he understands her fight and hurt on some level, love makes you do the ugliest things, but he’s on Armie's side here. He deserves to be happy. And so does Timmy for that matter.

Armie's hand squeezes Timmy's arm and then soothes the skin with his fingers delicately. "Right, yeah I know. I don't really want to think about it but I know she's going to lunge when I least expect it so..." he shakes his head. His eyes shift to Timmy and he feels a little sick from everything. "Sorry," he tells him again. "Let's talk about something else. How's LA, man? Everyone good?"   
"You mean since we last saw each other, what—three days ago? Things are good, Armie," he replies with a bit of amusement. "Hey, Tim—don't let him think about it too much. He'll go crazy if he does."   
"I will not go crazy," Armie says defiantly, but he knows it's true. At the very least, he'd have another anxiety attack, and with the kids always there, watching, it would only make things worse.

“Of course, I will.” Timmy promises and absolutely means it. “After all, I know ways to distract him.” He grabs Armie's chin tightly and pulls him in for a kiss. It feels a little like the midnight scene especially when Timmy pushes Armie to roll on top of him. The phone clatters to the floor with the off-balancing force, but they don’t mind for a moment, effectively distracted by each other's mouths. Timmy chuckles when he bends from the couch to pick the phone back up and sees and exasperated Nick. He pushes one earphone back into his ear. “Joke's on you, man. It’s thanks to you we are here now.” He points out and pets Armie's hair back down.

"Good Lord," Nick laughs, casting his eyes away from his phone. Armie looks down but smiles and reaches out for Timmy's hand. "Alright, well. I guess that's my cue." He's still chuckling, running a hand over the top of his hair and resting it at the back of his neck. "Listen, if you guys need anything let me know. Otherwise, I don't know...have fun. I guess."   
"Shut up," Armie laughs. "Thank you, man. We'll talk later." Nick nods and says goodbye before hanging up, and then the phone is dropped onto the couch as Armie pulls Timmy closer to him. He glance back towards the kids but finds they're still sound asleep. There's a sense of guilt that sets in his gut for wanting to kiss Timmy with them so close, and he knows from a friend that it was normal when you're dating someone new and the kids are kind of in limbo with it. But Timmy isn't new, and he's not technically divorced, so he's not sure if it's okay to excuse the guilt. He always hated hypothetical ethical dilemmas—he remembered one time in high school they talked about the trolley problem and it made him dizzy even back then to think through it. He wants to skip ahead to when he doesn't have to think about stuff like this. Even if they stay asleep now, is it okay to be physical, even a little? Is that a line crossed? He finds he still wants to be, which brings on another wave of guilt and self-doubt about his ability as a father. Why does it have to be so complicated?

Timmy snuggles into Armie, his eyelids feeling heavy again. "Can I take a nap now?" he asks quietly, eyes already slipping closed. He feels tired from all the excitement and the little sleep he had. He's asleep almost instantly and can't remember having any dreams when he wakes up, only warm darkness. He feels always safe and content in Armie's arms and their endless problems seem to disappear as he gives in to his exhaustion. He's so fast asleep he doesn't even wake up when Armie's phone rings. _Mother_ lights up on the screen.

Armie wants to decline, he wants to pretend it isn't happening and everything was fine, wants to settle deeper into the couch and pull Timmy closer until the phone stops buzzing and the looming threat of her judgement disappears into nothingness. His heart is racing.   
He doesn't realize that he's tightened his grip on Timmy until he's waking up and staring at the phone. Armie might throw up. What had Elizabeth told her, how much did she know, does she know he's there, oh god does she know he's _with_ Timmy, does—  
The phone stops ringing, too much time having passed. He holds his breath, a sinking feeling filling in the instant before it starts ringing again, his eyes slipping shut. He turns towards Timmy and pushes his nose against the base of Timmy's neck, answering the call and lifting it to his ear in one movement. "Hi, Mom."

“Armand!” Timmy can hear everything with how close together they are pressed. Dru doesn’t sound amused at all. Her tone is toxic. “Can you believe your dear wife Elizabeth just called me? She told me not to talk to you but I’m not going to just accept this behaviour from you! Poor Elizabeth was a mess. She’s so distressed and she didn’t even want to talk to about it in the beginning! But the poor thing has no one left as I heard! Not even Nick is supporting her right now. I’m gonna have a word to Carolyn about this! But I really thought you were coming around to it, you know. Dru, I told myself, be patient with this boy. You did everything in your power to shape you into the best man you can be. I was so happy when you married her! With her I know you go to church regularly and I can sleep a little better knowing she and God are looking out for you.”  
Timmy's grips tightens in Armie's shirt. It makes him feel sick and he isn’t even directly involved. At least not yet.   
“And what does she tell me? You’ve run off to New York and put your marriage on halt!” Her voice reaches new astronomical heights, Timmy thinks.

Armie's free hand moves to Timmy's hair, threading his fingers into it to calm himself down. He finds the point on his neck where his pulse jumps and snuggles closer, trying not to let his breath come too quickly. "I see you've already decided whatever I say doesn't matter," he mutters. "Do you even care what I have to say? What did she tell you, what exactly did she say, Mom? I guarantee it wasn't the whole truth." It's probably useless and _is_ tired—he should have napped with Timmy instead ,watching him drift, daydreaming about their future.

Timmy presses a soft kiss to his skin.   
“She told me that she’s too ashamed to tell me why you went to New York! I insisted but she kept refusing and begging me not to call you! But I want to know it from you now. If you have any honour left you tell me now!” She demands.   
Timmy realises with growing horror that Dru had completely fallen for a super cheap trick. Damn her! Both of them. Armie deserves so much more. He continues to kiss his jaw softly, reassuring him that he’s here for him.

Armie pulls away to look at Timmy, his hand leaving Timmy's curls to brush his knuckles against his cheek softly. The weight of her words pulls him down though and he fears he won't be able to keep himself together if he isn't in Timmy's arms; he returns to him, grabbing his shirt to keep him close. "She wanted you to call, Mom. She knew you would, that's why she told you not to." What's he supposed to say? He's at a loss, he knew this was coming and that he'd have to tell them eventually but this felt too rushed. How do you just do this? Like it's nothing? Like a normal conversation? "Our marriage is falling apart, Mom. No, that's not true, it's not falling apart. It _fell_ apart. Been falling apart for two years. Did she tell you I didn't run, that a _therapist_ told me to get space?" _Of course she didn't,_ he thinks bitterly.

“I want you to know how misguided your assumptions about her are! She’s not the evil witch in your story! Who do you think you are to disgrace the woman who gifted you your wonderful children, who gave you the chance to have a normal life despite you being... well. And I find it even more impertinent of you to _buy_ yourself the opinion of someone to justify your mindless behaviour. I don’t trust therapists since Tiffany got told by one that it’s not Matt’s fault he’s into boys.”  
Timmy’s grab on Armie tightens and he wants to throw the phone away and kiss him until he can’t remember he ever had a mother.   
“Like it isn’t clearly God’s punishment for something! I know quite well about your sick ideas on this topic. What are you doing in New York anyway?” She huffs.

It's too much, the pressure to appease her. It had been years since he'd had real conflict with them—they could usually have a conversation that, while tense and hurtful, could be resolved with Armie's silence and/or insistence to agree to disagree (promptly followed by leaving the situation immediately). He knows this won't be the case now, and he craves, _needs_ , strength. "Mom, hold on a second, I think Ford just woke up," Armie says, lowering the phone and hitting mute. In an instant, his lips are on Timmy's, his hand in his hair shaking. "I hate this," he mumbles against his lips, pressing his forehead against his as he drags in a pained breath. He presses another too-short kiss against Timmy's lips before pulling away and sniffling, the back of his hand lifting to the corner of his eyes to check for any dampness. He sits up and grabs the phone, letting himself sink heavily against Timmy, his hand finding his on the couch. Un-muting, he brings the phone to his ear and says, "Listen, I don't want to get into it. I needed to go somewhere I could process everything and New York was far enough. And I have people here to support me, it was a natural choice." He feels hollow and knows his answer will do nothing to sooth her either but he's tired and tired of lying. It was true, even if it wasn't the whole truth.

“You know people in New York? Did Nick come with you or-“ she pauses. “Tell me you’re not with that boy Armie! With your children no less!”   
Timmy doesn’t care about her words. He would be more alarmed if she would like him but it matters to Armie and that makes him hate her all the more.   
“Do you have any idea what the influence of him could do to your children? Isn’t it sick enough that you don’t tell them it’s wrong you bring them into direct contact with it! Ford will never grow up to be a real man like that.”   
Timmy squeezes Armie’s hand and begins to trace the words ‘I love you’ into his skin over and over again.

Armie tries not to let the anger and hurt boil over—how is Timmy not affected by this, surely he can hear what she's saying. Tears of frustration spring in his eyes and he's lost in his desire to make her see. If only she knew, _if only_ she could see the way he cares for his children, how he looks at Armie when they wake up, how he holds him even now—if only she saw the lines he traced on Armie's too numb skin, the only part of him that felt real, invisible lines of love etched into him over and over. "Don't say that," he spits. "If Ford grows up to be half the man he is, I'll have done my job as a father." The tears spill over and he knows his breathing is labored but he can't stop it. "You don't know anything about him, he's so _good_ , and the kids adore him. They always have." _Stop, stop it before you make it worse,_ he thinks.

Timmy bites his lip and knows how huge this compliment is. He hurts for Armie and doesn't want him to. She's not worth his tears. He reaches up and wipes his tears away, his heart burning in his chest. If Armie wants his kids to grow up to be like him Timmy would do his best to make that happen and make them see how amazing their dad is. Because that is all he sees right now.   
"He would probably soon outdo your maturity. For the love of God, Armie, you talk about him like he's some saint! Promise your poor mother to put as much distance between him and the kids at least. It would mean a lot to me."   
Timmy looks over where the kids are sleeping cuddled up in his bed. Then he wraps his arms around Armie's neck and holds him, just holds him.

Armie's free hand lifts to close around Timmy's arm, his head turning in towards his body. _Thank you,_ he wants to tell him; _thank you for loving me like this._ "Mom, I...I can't promise you that." He feels sick with anxiety and it's almost too much, the threat of an attack looming just out of reach. He has to take shallow breaths just to keep from crying, his chest tightening and everything simultaneously seizing up and numbing. _Just make it stop,_ he thinks. He wants to just say it, maybe it would be better if he did, maybe he'd _feel_ better. The words don't come though and he just wants it to not be like this, wishes he wasn't like this, regrets the thought immediately. He's hurting and he's angry _because_ he's hurting, because this is who he is and finding someone you love this much shouldn't be something you're afraid of, ashamed of, not at all. He wishes his family would celebrate this love the way they had Elizabeth. He wishes they would suggest wedding colors and ask about children and marvel at them. He wishes this was something they recognized as love, as something worthy. It's a sin to them, he understands that; but it's also who he is, and how is that fair? "Mom, I can't talk about this," he says, but the emotion has crept up and invaded his voice, the sound breaking and shattering around him like years of uncertainty and self-doubt.

Timmy holds him tighter, rocks him gently and presses a kiss to his hair.  
"You _can't_ talk about it? Who are you? I did not raise my son like this? God, are you _crying?_ Armand, stop this at once! I didn't know you were that weak!" She exclaims.  "A grown up man weeping like a little girl!"  
Timmy can feel Armie starting to tremble in his arms like a leaf in the wind and knows he has to do something. Armie has reached his limits and he's proud of him for standing up to her like that. Gently he takes the phone out of his grip and brings it up to his own ear. "Mrs. Hammer? Timothée Chalamet here. I just want you to know how grateful I am that you gave birth to Armie because he's the best man I've ever known. But you heard my speech in Austin, you know that. but I'm sorry he had to put up with you as his mother." He ends the call then before she can utter another word. He wraps his arms around Armie again then shielding him from the outside world.

 _You can't say that, you can't say that you can't say that youcan'tsaythat._ Armie's vision blurs and he grips Timmy out of sheer need to ground himself. He's losing control and he absolutely can't when it's possible his kids could wake up at any moment—their naps were always so unpredictable when they changed time zones. The feeling in his fingers feels wrong and he knows he's probably holding him too tight but he can't seem to let go. He doesn't quite feel like himself and he really just wants to curl up and pretend it's not happening, let time pass around him, engulf him even, until there's nothing left to feel. There isn't anything he can do, at least he doesn't think there is, so he tries desperately to remove himself from Timmy's embrace and wanders over to the bed, climbing under the covers without a word and pulling Harper to his chest, her little body snuggling closer instantly. He allows the smell of Timmy's laundry detergent to fill him, the slight scent of his cologne clinging to the sheets almost like an embrace. Maybe if he stays here it'll all be okay.

Timmy sighs softly. He has to be patient with Armie. He doesn't know he can always let go, that Timmy would _always, always_ be there to catch him. He walks over and climbs in on the other side of the bed, afraid that too much contact would suffocate Armie right now. Ford is quick to snuggle into his embrace thankfully. He wants to say something, wants to touch him but isn't sure anymore if he can, if Armie would even want that. "I won't accept the way she talks to you. I'm sorry but I can't." He ends up saying quietly. "She's hurting you and I just- I _can't_ take it. I _won't_ let her hurt someone I love like that. I don't give a shit what she thinks about me but it matters to you so I'm gonna fight her if that's what it takes."

Armie presses his eyes closed tighter and tries not to cry, though he lets his leg drift over to connect with Timmy's. "I know," he mumbles. "Thank you, I just..." It shouldn't be this hard. The amount of time he'd spent envying people and their family dynamics stacked up constantly, but right now he feels smaller than ever. "It's still just a lot," he whispers. He'd have to get used to this relationship and the love pouring out of Timmy. Elizabeth had loved him this much once, or at least he thinks she must have at some point. Yet, it still feels different coming from Timmy, like some ineffable string connected their hearts to exaggerate the love.

Timmy shifts a bit closer with Ford. “That’s okay. Take your time.” He assures him. “I’m here and I won’t go anywhere.” He assures him just as Harper stretches in Armie’s arms and yawns.   
“Daddy?” She mumbles still sounding a bit sleepy but quickly waking up more. That would be a problem, Timmy realises. Ford’s still tired but there’s no other room she can go to so they can both have what they need. Never raise kids in a studio. Timmy makes a mental note to start looking for flats. No matter if this worked out or not he’s starting to resent living in one.

"Hey Hopsy," Armie says, offering her a small smile and patting her hair down. "Shh, careful. Don't wake up Ford," he whispers to her, swinging his legs off the bed and waiting for her to hop on his back which she does easily. He turns and looks at Timmy, trying to find a way to send him a message with just his eyes; he'd done it before, it was possible he knows. _I love you so much._ He walks away from their alcove and sits down on the couch, helping Harper pull books out of her bag before moving to the kitchen to grab her a snack. He pauses against the counter, gripping the edge as he tries to compose himself more fully. The numbness from it all was enough to keep the emotion at bay, but it was also just barely under the surface. The temptation to let it take over is there, too, though he knows that won't help right now. He'd have to wait if he wanted to break down, perhaps steal away to the bathroom a little later if the pressure in his chest didn't subside completely. Right now it's manageable, but he still feels like he's trudging through water. He lifts his eyes, sees Timmy, and remembers that he's allowed to let him take care of him. He can't forget that now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy

Timmy watches them from where he’s lying. He knows it’s hard for Armie and he wants to give him all the time he needs. For now, he hopes Harper would be enough to distract him from his dark thoughts. When their eyes meet he hopes he sends the same message back to him that Armie is sending him.  _ I love you more than anyone else. _ His phone has been continuously vibrating with messages so he takes the opportunity and sees what it’s about. It’s Brian talking about the pictures of the paparazzi. Damn, they sure are fast these days. He can’t deal with this right now. If they can barely deal with Armie’s family finding, out then surely the public judgement is not something they are ready for yet.

 

Armie looks away and goes to Harper. The two sit and read for awhile, and it distracts him a little but his phone had been resting on the couch, accumulating missed calls and texts from Elizabeth and Dru. He looks at Elizabeth's in case she had questions about the kids, but they're mostly just frustrated messages about talking to his mother. One of them is about the kids, asking if they could Skype later. He doesn't want to be there for it, but it would likely be quick and they were still her kids too, so he has to say yes.  Then he turns his phone off completely, deciding to look at it again later, closer to dinner. Harper grabs coloring pages and starts doodling, asking Armie to help her color in the lines. He can hear Ford waking up and glances behind him towards them, knowing he'd likely have to be changed. He feels a little guilty for Timmy being thrown into this so quickly, the domesticity more than he probably anticipated and with almost no warning.

 

Timmy, who had been dozing a little, blinks his eyes open again fully and smiles at Ford wiggling with bright eyes. “Hey there buddy.” He says softly and tickles his tummy lightly. Ford catches one his fingers and stares up at him with big eyes. Timmy can practically watch them fill with water and before short he starts crying. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asks feeling terrified.    
When Armie tells him he needs to get changed and he would do it Timmy shakes his head. “Show me how.” He demands and picks him up.

 

Armie touches Harper's shoulder before walking over to Timmy, wide eyed and determined, Ford crying and reaching out of his arms. Armie's heart aches to hold him and make it stop but he knows only changing him would stop it, so places his hand on Ford's chest and kisses his head as he passes them to grab the diaper bag, pulling a few things out and laying his mat on the floor. "Sit," he tells Timmy as he does so himself. "He's going to keep crying, don't worry about it. It'll stop when he's changed. Okay, you're going to unsnap his onesie," he instructs. He watches as Timmy fumbles a little but gets it done, and gives him more instructions.    
" _ Dad, _ " Harper draws out. "He's loud!" Armie chuckles softly and places a hand on Timmy's leg to keep him calm; the comforting of one another goes both ways, he finds, and he quite likes it. His other hand goes to Ford to try and distract him and keep him laying on his back as Timmy changes him, Ford hitting his hand and shouting all the while.  _ So much for his even temper today, _ Armie thinks. Hopefully it would pass and he'd be fine, but he was always a bit worse when they traveled until he got adjusted.

 

Timmy struggles quite a bit with the fidgeting little body. He’d watch Armie change him before and he had always made it look pretty effortless. Armie’s voice instructs him on the easiest way to perform some moves and they manage to get it done together. Ford sniffles when they’re done and turns on his stomach, pushing himself to stand. Timmy gapes at him and steals a look over to Armie. Ford has still troubles standing up by himself so to see it happen feels quite miraculous. He turns on Armie then hitting him with his little fists and squealing when Armie moves away but he can catch him. Timmy shakes his head. “Undeniably your son.” He deadpans and lifts him up. “No hitting your dad.” He scolds him.

 

The urge to wrap both of them up in his arms is undeniable, but Armie still isn't sure he should be so obvious. He needed to talk to Harper, but he worried that telling her would only make her pull away from Timmy, and he didn't want that at all. He packs up their little changing station and tosses the old diaper before going back to the couch and collapsing on it. He watches Harper draw and listens as she explains what the picture is, climbing up on his lap to bring it closer to his face. She had been getting more into drawing lately and it always made him smile, some form of creativity spilling out of her in crayons and markers. "Hops, can I ask you something?" She looks up at him and then back down at her paper. "Is it okay that we're at Timmy's apartment? Do you like it here?" She shrugs and looks around before talking about her picture some more, making him sigh. She doesn't want to talk about it, or doesn't care— either way, he's too emotionally drained to force the issue right now.

 

Timmy puts Ford back down and lets him go exploring. On an upside he couldn’t go missing through any doors.    
Then he takes a look at the packages with furniture which they’d received. “We should probably get started on the beds, what do you think?” He asks.    
Ford grabs one of Harper’s crayons and runs off, the little girl quick to jump after him. He wonders if it would start the questioning when he and Armie still shared a bed but not the kids.

 

Armie groans a little, wanting to just stay put for awhile but knowing Timmy's right. "Yeah, sounds good." He stands and walks over to him, telling Harper to be careful and switching the crayon in Ford's hand out for another toy, though he starts screaming for a minute as Harper runs off with the now slightly gnawed on crayon. Armie goes to Timmy and helps him open up the boxes, the commotion drawing Ford over as he toddles and sits down with them, hitting the ground and forming sounds that almost sound like words but not quite. Armie smiles fondly at him and makes a note to keep all sharp objects on one side of his body and Ford on the other.

 

Ford is not helpful but very adorable. They let him play with the wrapping paper as they put together the pieces and try to understand the instructions. “I think that it’s actually this piece.” Timmy points out and holds it up. Armie nods his head and takes it. They work peacefully with Ford always being good for a laugh as he tries to be helpful. At the end they have to fully functional beds for children.    
“Oh god I’m starving.” Timmy complains as they gather the garbage and trash it.    
“Yes!!! Food!” Harper is immediately on board. Undeniably Armie’s children. Both of them. “Do you want to cook or just order?” He asks Armie and wipes his sweaty forehead.

 

"Ugh, we should cook probably but I don't feel like it. Hops— how does Chinese food sound?" She responds with an over enthusiastic  _ Noodles _ ! and he laughs and looks back at Timmy with a shrug. "Let's order. I'll get the highchair set up if you want to order?" Timmy agrees and Armie sets out to assemble the more basic high chair attachment for regular chairs, a simple snap these pieces together kind of thing. As they're waiting for the food, Armie starts thinking about where to put the beds, if they should be in the living space or closer to Timmy's makeshift bedroom area; he isn't sure. He's also not so sure Harper wouldn't bombard him with questions about the bed sharing. It makes him a little nervous. Almost as if she senses it, Harper taps his leg, gestures to the new beds, and says, "Where's yours?" His eyes dart to Timmy's. "Well, I thought that— A bed big enough for me would take up too much space, Harper. Timmy said I can share his, isn't that nice?" He shrugs at Timmy and tries not to freak out; she broached the subject, that could be a good sign.    
"But why?"  _ Oh god, _ he resists the urge to roll his eyes.    
"Because Timmy is my friend and he thought it would be nice to share his bed."    
"But why?" Armie tries not to groan and tickles her sides, sending her into a fit of giggles. "But  _ why, _ " she draws out, laughing now.    
"Silly goose, keep asking me why. You don't ask when Nick spends the night." She looks at him with narrow eyes and he feels his face warm when he realizes Timmy is watching them. "Not that, Nick doesn't, I— Harper, Timmy and I like to share a bed. Is that okay?"    
"Like Mommy?" she asks, and he swears his heart stops beating in his chest. He swallows hard and touches her cheek.    
"Sort of," he tells her softly. She looks at Ford for a moment and then skips away from Armie, already focused on some other toy, the conversation either forgotten or discarded. He sighs and finally looks up at Timmy.

 

Timmy cocks his head curiously prompting Armie to walk over to him. He leans over the counter with a cocky smile knowing Armie doesn’t need him to remind him she would eventually catch on what’s happening. “Didn’t know you and Nick share beds when he’s over. Should I be worried?” He mumbles under his breath knowing they  _ need _ this levity. He looks over to see the kids distracted and brushes his hand over the patch of skin over his waistband.

 

"Jesus," Armie mutters, his eyes darting behind him to make sure the kids weren't looking, double checking just for his own sanity. "He sleeps in the guest room," Armie rolls his eyes but feels like a part of him is being lit on fire with a cheap lighter. He looks down at Timmy's hand and pushes it away. "Don't be a tease," he whispers, half tempted to make Timmy regret starting this game (it wasn't really a game though, was it?) but knowing he cared too much about what the kids saw to engage. Thin ice is what they're on, incredibly thin ice.

 

Timmy pouts and sighs. Armie knows better than to start this in front of the children and he’s probably right. “So what do you want?” He asks a little upset. “I think I’ll take the chicken. Noodles for Hops, right?” He’s fiddling with the leaflet of his trusted Chinese take-out service.

 

Armie shrugs and moves to look over his shoulder, his hand resting low on Timmy's back. "Hmm...That looks good," he says, pointing to some beef option before stepping away and withdrawing touch. "Thanks," he says as he walks away, resisting the urge to add  _ babe _ after it just to get Timmy's heart racing. He had to stick to the rule he set, though, and be careful especially around the kids. He goes and sits with Ford, grabbing one of Harper's books and attempting to read it to him despite his short attention span.

 

Timmy looks after him heart racing and hides a little smile before ordering. Dinner is peaceful and they’re all hungry. Ford does his best to feed himself and makes quite the mess. But everyone is smiling and laughing so it matters a little less. When they clean up Harper asks for her mother again and Armie explains they would Skype later. Timmy knows they have to but he’s afraid what she would be able to do with her words so he hauls himself up into bed with his phone and starts texting Pauline to tell her about his worries.

 

_ hey bro ça va? _ she replies to him. She hadn't expected him to text this soon, though admittedly she expected it at some point. Timmy was wonderful and the connection with Armie and his kids was undeniable, but it was a lot and she'd been worrying a little about how he was holding up on day one of this insanity.

 

_ hey Armie is helping the kids Skype with the wife _ he explains and as Armie gets the call set up he realises he can’t do this and flees into the bathroom.  _ im scared _ he admits knowing he would feel better once he’d talked about this with someone. She understands.

 

Armie holds the kids as Elizabeth lights up the screen, his eyes following Timmy as he escapes into the bathroom. He mostly disengages, lets her talk, hopes Harper doesn't say something that could be misinterpreted , or perhaps even worse, interpreted exactly as it ought to be.    
  
Pauline sighs when she gets the text.  _ He's not changing his mind is he?? I'll come over there and fight him for you. _ She knows Armie wouldn't, especially after how happy he'd looked earlier, so she's mainly saying it in jest. Though, as she's sure Timmy knew, she's also dead serious.

 

Timmy shakes his head and smiles. He’s glad to know she’s his sister. _ no I don’t think so. I don’t hope so. He was v happy today. But I’m still scared _ he explains.  _ i don’t know how I’ll go on if he leaves me _

 

_ Easy, he's not leaving you. If he for whatever god awful reason decides to then he's not the guy we thought he is. Seriously. The Armie I saw today and even the Armie I saw in the hotel during the oscars is not going to leave you. _ She's certain of this, but isn't sure Timmy ever will be unless he's got a ring on his finger. It's difficult with these sorts of things--there's always this initial fear with people who cheat: will they do it again, what makes you different from the last person, what if they regret it, etc. But Armie seemed different, and this didn't seem like some casual thing to any of the Chalamets.

 

Timmy chews on his lip.  _ not sure how that would make it hurt less but you're probably right. we built the beds for the kids this afternoon and Hops started asking questions. he's terrified to tell her the truth _ He knows he doesn't have to explain why that terrified him. She would know. It's stupid but Timmy wish he could just tell the whole world so they have to stop hiding. He's knows Armie is not ashamed of him and there are real factors that stop him but in Timmy's heart fear had taken the reigns.

 

_ Aw Tim. Does he know? That it upset you? _ Pauline worries both of their fears might ruin this before the media even has a chance. They needed to sort it out, she thinks, be clear with each other what's going on in their heads. She stares at the screen and second guesses her response, typing another text out for him.  _ Maybe you should talk to him, he's obviously afraid of it too even if it's for different reasons. _

 

_ no it doesn’t upset me. Not rly. I mean kinda but he’s right. When Hops asked if we are sharing a bed like he and Liz dad and he said yes she just didn’t really care. She doesn’t understand that he and her are over and he’s afraid of the moment she does _ He can hear their voices through the door but tries to ignore them. He doesn’t want to freak Armie out with his petty worries that he  _ knows _ are stupid. Maybe it would be better if he could hold him more so he knows he’s really there and really his.

 

_ Timmy divorce is super hard on little kids. He's probably just being cautious. If you need more tell him, he might make more of an effort to help her see what's happening. Does his wife not want him to tell them or something? _ She's not sure this is something that can really be solved by anyone but Armie, but she senses that Timmy just needs to get it off his chest. His whole world is being turned on its axis, of course he'd be a little nervous about it not being exactly as he envisioned it. She remembers earlier though and how natural he looked with the kids. He'd be fine, she was sure of it. They already looked like a family.

 

Timmy snorts at the mention of Elizabeth.  _ well I'm pretty sure she doesn't want that but that's not his reason, I'm sure. He's scared because of the kids. He cares about them so he's worried of course. I get that all. I rly do but I wish we wouldn't have to hide so much. Nobody can change that I know but it still sucks. We've been hiding for so long and sometimes I just need reassure that this is real not another dream _ He explains and sinks back on the toilet seat. This sucks and he wishes it wouldn't have to be like that.  _ I'm scared for him too. How much influence she still has on him. And his mother. She called today and I had to end the call to pull him from the verge of a panic attack _

 

_ god Timmy. That's crazy! Does he talk about it? Please tell me he at least knows they're not good for him. _ She'd been told before about all the drama with Elizabeth, but Timmy didn't tell her a lot about Armie's mom, just that it wasn't a good situation.  _ Don't let him retreat again, i don't want you to fall apart over him doing that to you again. _

 

_ I told him I won’t tolerate her behaviour and he understood. It’s just hard for him accept I think. It’s a lot at once. God I’m here whining when I don’t rly have any problems. Hiding in a bathroom while he balances kids and her on the call. I should go out there and be there for him. Be a gentle reminder to her that I’m still around too. _ He hits send and stares at the door. Come on, Timmy, you can do this, for him. He stands up and stretches his limbs with a groan before leaving the bathroom. The kids are huddled up with Armie on the couch staying at their sides dutifully but now he looks up and Timmy smiles at him. He makes a gesture to ask if it’s okay to sit with him but then Harper had already jumped up with the phone in hand.    
“Look mommy, Timmy is here, too. I told you. He bought us beds we can sleep in but not daddy.” She pulls his hand to come sit with them on the couch.

 

Armie groans, unable to stop the sound from escaping. He can't even look at the phone, he knows she'll just be irritated, pissed even. "Don't freak out," he says to her.    
"Mom, look!" Harper takes the phone and walks towards the beds, but Armie grabs her first, picking her up and taking back the phone. He didn't need Elizabeth seeing a very unmade bed.    
" _ Okay, _ Hops why don't you go play for a little while and I'll grab you to say bye to Mom in a minute, okay?" He puts her down and rests against the wall, eyeing Timmy cautiously. "Don't freak out, you wanted them to stay with us," he reminds Elizabeth. "You sent them off with us, you knew this was going to happen." He's not sure why he isn't more panicked; perhaps he'd used all his anxiety for the day on his mother and this was just another annoyance. He did worry that she would throw a fit, but there wasn't much she could do, not much she  _ would _ do, he thinks.

 

"I'm not freaking out." She snaps. "I'm just devastated that you would do this in front of the kids." She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. "I really think you're being too final."   
Timmy walks over to Armie and leans against the wall acting like he's only watching the kids from here but catches Armie's eyes briefly.  _ There's a certain game in interacting with the lover you're attracted to. _ This is not a whole lot different from that, Timmy thinks. Ford comes toddling over and reaches out to be picked up by him so he does. The toddler turns to where he hears his mother's voice. "Alright someone is tired. I'm gonna get him ready for bed." He says and moves closer so he can wave her goodnight.

 

Elizabeth watches, bewildered, before turning her eyes back on Armie. "Are you serious? He's a  _ child _ , what is he doing putting the kids--"    
"I will end this call right now," Armie interrupts, his jaw set. "Do not test me." Her eyes narrow but she's quiet, so he runs a hand through his hair and lets his eyes drift over to Timmy. "Will you check his diaper first?" he asks, Timmy nodding and smiling. He shifts his focus back to his wife and sighs. "Listen, he's doing really well with them, he's always been good with them. If it's too much we'll leave, I've been saying that. Don't worry about it. As for the sleeping arrangements, what the hell did you think was going to happen?"

 

"Well you could've gotten a hotel room. Or hell, take the couch I don't care." She huffs. "I can't believe you trust him with them so easily. I thought you cared more for them." She spits out. "You know what, don't answer that. I don't care for your excuses. Get off the phone and check on them before he drops Ford. I bet it was his fault that he's wearing a bandaid, too."

 

"At least say goodnight to your daughter," he mutters pushing off the wall and going to Harper. "Say goodnight to Mom, Hops," he tells her, holding her with one arm and the phone on the other. Harper says goodnight and hugs the phone to her chest before Armie puts her down and walks away. He hangs up on her without another word and turns his phone off, refusing to even humor her if she's going to attack Timmy like this.

 

Timmy is surprisingly successful with getting Ford ready for bed. The boy is tired though and practically already asleep. He gets a goodnight kiss from both Armie and Harper before he puts him into his crib and gives him his goodnight kiss.    
Everyone’s attention turned to Harper now who did not look tired at all. “I want to dance!” She declares. “Can we put some music on? Then we can all dance together.” She suggests.

 

"Harper, Ford is sleeping, we have to be quiet now. We can watch a movie if you promise to go to bed right after," Armie suggests, knowing she would fall asleep during it and it would keep her occupied until then. It also doesn't  hurt that they're all tired and snuggling up with Timmy and Harper sounds like an actual dream after everything that happened today. "That is, if Timmy doesn't mind. You have to ask him," he adds, knowing it would mean a lot to him to give up some authority to involve him more. He worried about him; he disappeared for so long while they FaceTimed Elizabeth.

 

It’s like when you go to one of your parents and ask them if you can do something and they tell you to ask the other party whether they agree. Timmy hadn’t been prepared for being on the other end of this so soon. But he’s ready to accept it with pride. He makes Harper turn around and really ask him before nodding. “Yes, that’s okay.” They turn on the tv with a children’s show and Timmy carefully settles on the other end of the couch, not sure what’s okay here. Technically it doesn’t make much difference between sharing a bed but Harper or Armie may beg to differ. So he pulls his knees up and hugs them to his chest.

 

"Tim," Armie says softly, watching him from a distance. When he looks over, Armie glances down at the space between them and raises his eyebrows. "You can sit closer." It hurts his heart a little to see him withdraw, knowing his caution earlier with the kids had to be the cause. "Hops, is it okay if Timmy sits closer to us?"    
"Yeah, Timmy! Come sit!" she says, standing up and resting her hand on Armie's shoulder.

 

Timmy blushes a little because he’s embarrassed at how easy it had been for Armie to see through him. “Yeah, right sorry.” He scoots into the space beside Armie and leans his head against his shoulder. God he’s tired. He realises. “You do owe me a dance though.” He says softly remembering how Armie had said in their first night after the Oscars that he’d dance with Timmy sober.

 

" _ Later, _ " Armie smiles, turning his head a little to press his lips against Timmy's hair. Harper snuggles in between them and taps her hands against both of their thighs happily.    
"Timmy, look!" she says and points at the screen with a smile before dropping her hand and resting her head against his chest.

 

“I’m looking.” He tells her softly and runs a hand through her hair. He wants to be able to kiss Armie in moments like this and knows he would at some point. He just can’t right now. He tucks his head a bit deeper into the crook of Armie’s neck and lets out a sigh.

 

Armie wants this moment to last forever, Ford peacefully asleep without a fight, Harper content against his love against his side. He rests his head against Timmy and wraps his arm around the both of them, pulling Timmy closer and trying to help Harper shift into a more comfortable position between them, but she gives up and just climbs on top of Timmy's lap.

 

Timmy sighs contently. Armie's grip on them is tight and protective and he leans into his chest to move impossibly closer. This is good, he thinks. This is how he could die. He slowly brings his hand up and puts it on top of Armie's for a moment before he let his finger wander to his forearm again where he first traces the words  _ i love this _ and then  _ i love YOU _ . He circles the patch of skin on which he’d written  _ you _ .

 

Armie looks down at him, nearly two years of history sitting on that little couch. The first time Harper ever crawled onto his lap like this, she couldn't even say his name. The first time he'd ever watched a film with him, he didn't even consider the butterflies in his stomach were caused by proximity. He never dreamed there would be a day where he'd consider him the keeper of his heart. It felt like it happened so fast, though it took longer than it should have for him to realize what he meant to him. A million moments categorized into now irrelevant columns of  _ filming _ and  _ Luca's home _ and  _ LA _ and  _ New York _ , all fading away because there is only this, this miraculous moment when all of the pining and desperation resolved into a cheesy kids cartoon on a worn couch in a tiny apartment, Timmy tucked under his arm, right where he's always belonged. 

Armie grows brave and leans into him, his nose pressing against the space above Timmy's ear. " _ I love you, too, _ " he whispers, a slight kiss falling against Timmy's skin. The hand resting on Timmy's arm delicately traces lines up and down the expanse of skin as if fingertips could memorize moments better than minds.

 

Timmy’s heart feels like it’s overflowing with love and he looks up at Armie with big eyes. He’d said with his daughter right there. He’d kissed him with her nestled into his lap. Harper does not seem to be phased by it. She might have heard it, she might have not. She may think it’s not weird. Timmy lets out a shaky breath and tries to calm his racing heart. It’s incredible how Armie can make him feel like this even after two years. He lets his fingers entwine with Armie’s that we’re not busy stroking his forearm. It’s a kind of bliss and happiness that’s so total and unconditional it seems like a miracle more than anything else.

 

Armie sighs and nudges his foot against Timmy's, unable to stop himself now; it's as if something had taken over and unleashed all the affection in him he'd held back from showing out of fear. His awareness of Harper sitting right there hadn't changed, but his perspective was starting to. Perhaps if they gradually introduced moments of innocent intimacy she wouldn't think twice when faced with the  _ I'm in love with Timmy _ conversation that was coming. He lifts Timmy's hand to his lips and presses a kiss against their entwined fingers before resting the hands on his leg. Harper looks down at the movement and then up at Armie; he holds his breath but she just looks on, a little confused, before looking back down and reaching over to grab their hands. He thinks she'll separate them for a moment, throw a fit perhaps, but she only grips Armie's thumb and pulls their hands closer to her, snuggling closer and sprawling out, using their hands as a pillow. Armie can't help the laugh that bubbles up, nor can he stop the tears of shock in his eyes. "Hops," he laughs, shaking his head. She giggles but doesn't move, and he lets her rest on them. "Do you have your phone?" Armie asks Timmy quietly. "I  _ need _ a picture of this before she decides it's not comfortable."

 

Timmy is simply speechless. He had always dreamed this is how the kids would accept their love: with open arms. He nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls his camera app. He snaps a few pic of a smug Harper before taking a few selfies of all of them. When he’s done he quickly sets it as his lock screen and sends it to Armie. He rests his head back on Armie’s shoulder then and looks at the picture before him some more. It really does feel like home. Like everything he’s ever dreamed off. “Thank you.” He mumbles to Armie, to both of them. He hopes he can fulfil their expectations of him, too. “I love you both more than you know.” He says, loud and clear. He’s addressing both of them so it isn’t so weird for Harper and Armie would know he doesn’t just mean it in a brotherly way. And he does love them both.

 

Armie rubs his arm and presses another kiss against the side of his head. In an instant, he decides that when the kids are used to this for real, they'll be like this always. He didn't want to be that couple that withheld affection around kids--he's done that, he lived that as a child and never seeing his parents act like they were in love did more damage than he was sure he even knew. He wanted Harper and Ford to grow up with this example of pure love, with the knowledge that at least  _ this _ is real, and something to look for and strive towards. He looks down at his daughter, sighs... Her next ballet recital was in a few months, May he thinks-- he wonders if Timmy will come and cheer her on. They could sit together and he could hold his hand to distract from Elizabeth being there, too. And then the first day of school--he  _ had _ to get a picture of Hops with Timmy for that. When he was growing up, there were these father son campouts and things he never got to do, Ford could have both of them there, Hops could alternate years for Daddy Daughter dances with them--

He has to stop himself from looking forward when he realizes he's on the verge of tears. He'd known for some time that he was in love with Timmy, that he wanted to  _ have _ something with him--but it hadn't been real until now. He remembers just days ago really when they talked about their private island, how foolish that daydream had been. He didn't want to run away with him; he wanted to stay put with him, build a  _ life _ with him, wake up to screaming kids and birthdays with him. He squeezes Timmy's hand and closes his eyes, letting himself be happy in the moment, knowing it had taken a lot to get here.

 

All this open affection feels like he’s truly reached his dream. They lie there in peace, Harper paying attention to the cartoon while the two adults heal a bit and grow together even more tightly. This is it. This is what his family looks like now. Timmy is scared to imagine it always being like this. Yes, Armie’s mind seems to be set on this, every action speaks for him wanting this just as much as Timmy does. But there are no signed divorce papers yet. He could still change his mind. Besides how are they going to work between LA and New York. The kids still had to go to school. Timmy would have to leave New York after all. They can’t just shuffle them back and forth. It seems a lot of change at once. He wants this life with Armie but- would it really be so easy? The cartoon ends and Timmy reaches for the remote and turns the TV off. Harper had curled into a ball and is breathing regularly. He looks up at Armie whose eyes are still closed. Timmy stretches a little and presses his lips to his neck. “Wake up, handsome. We have to put our daughter into her bed,” he mumbles, hoping he’s not crossing a line by calling her  _ their _ daughter.

 

Armie opens his eyes at the words, his breath caught in his throat. He stares at him for a moment, slightly dazed;  _ our _ daughter.  _ Our _ family,  _ our _ life. He glances down and untangles their fingers, gently lifting her head in the hand Timmy had been holding, moving his other hand from Timmy's shoulder to her legs. He scoops her up in his arms and she turns towards him with a yawn, snuggling her face into his chest. Timmy had helped put the kids to bed many times in LA, but this would be different, Armie knows. "Come on, then," he tilts his head towards the little bed they'd gotten her and stands up to walk over. Timmy follows and before Armie puts her down, he lifts her up a little and says with a small smile, "You should kiss her goodnight." The first time he'd visited them, Harper insisted every night that she wouldn't go to bed unless Timmy gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It had melted him even then--he should have known they'd always end up here; in hindsight, it was downright absurd he hadn't seen how in love he'd always been.

 

Timmy smiles and moves closer to him slipping an arm around his waist before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetest of dreams,” he whispers, hoping it would keep all bad dreams away. He bends down to pull the covers back then while Armie presses a kiss to her forehead as well so that he can put her down easily. He also makes sure that she tugged in properly and strokes her cheek before standing upright again. Soon enough, this would be normal, a daily activity but not less cherished he’s sure. He looks over at Armie then, a bit cautious, not sure what he’s thinking. But his worries are wiped away when he’s wrapped up in Armie’s arms and swept off his feet. He can only barely suppress a yelp and quickly wraps his arms around Armie’s neck to keep his balance. He laughs breathlessly as he’s carried to his bed. “Armie! You silly goose!” He whispers trying not to wake the kids.

 

Armie tosses him on the bed with a bright smile and flops down next to him, meeting his eyes with a deep sigh. There were still lines--especially since they weren't  _ really _ separated from the kids at all in the studio--so he does a calculation in his head of what he feels is allowed. It wasn't uncommon for him to sleep shirtless, but he worries if the kids see the two of them shirtless in bed, that wouldn't be great just yet. Jeans, though--those could go. He sit up a little with a hand on Timmy's stomach, leaning in to whisper in Timmy's ear, "I'm not coming on to you, I promise," as he reaches for his jeans to undo the button and unzip them. In an instant, he's on his knees, pulling them off Timmy and trying to ignore the blush creeping up the back of his neck. He almost tosses them aside but thinks better of it, folding them before laying them on the floor next to the bed. Timmy's face makes him smirk, and he knows he said he wasn't coming on to him but he can't resist the urge to kiss Timmy's foot like he did when they were filming. Then he reaches for his own jeans, removing them and folding them on top of Timmy's.

 

Timmy props himself up on his elbows and watches Armie curiously. “Are you sure?” He asks quietly. “It sure feels like it though.” Armie lies back down and lifts the covers invitingly. “No, no.” Timmy grins and shakes his head leaning closer. “No sleeping before brushing your teeth, you oaf.” He says just a breath away from Armie’s lips before pulling back and making a show of walking to the bathroom knowing Armie would follow him. They’d gotten toothbrushes for everyone so there’s a nice lineup of cups with a toothbrush in each one on Timmy’s sink now. Timmy wets his and squeezes toothpaste on it. The tiles are cold so he stands on one food and rubs the other against his shin to warm up.

 

Armie does the same and leans against the wall as he brushes his teeth, his eyes glued to Timmy, an arm crossed over his chest leisurely. He lets his gaze travel down his body and settles on his feet, smiling a little through toothpaste foam. He reaches out with his toes and nudges Timmy's foot caught on his shin. "What are you doing?" he tries to say, but it's a bit jumbled up with his toothbrush still in his mouth. "Cold?" he laughs a little. He walks over next to him to spit in the sink, then stands behind Timmy, biting his toothbrush so he has two free hands, then turns and lifts Timmy up onto the counter, laughing quietly when Timmy makes a sound of surprise. He goes back to brushing his teeth but keeps a hand on Timmy's knee.

 

Timmy shakes his head. “Shauhuf,” he says, and then turns to spit foam out. “Showoff,” he repeats before sticking his toothbrush back into his mouth. His free hand finds Armie’s on his knees and lazily traces it. It’s so domestic and he loves it. They finish up and put everything away before Timmy pulls Armie closer by his shirt guiding him to stand between his legs. “Are you happy?” He mumbles and brushes a hand through his hair. Yes, he’d looked at him but he likes to make sure, wants to hear it out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to miss anything just because he’s so sure about reading him.

 

Armie smiles and leans into the touch, sighing softly. "Yes," he says, leaning in and pausing a breath away from Timmy's lips. He lifts his hands and frames his face, turning his head slightly so he can kiss Timmy's jaw. He smiles when Timmy sinks a little against the touch and does it again in the same spot before nipping at him. "I'm very happy," he says, meeting Timmy's eyes evenly. His hands drop to Timmy's thighs and he squeezes lightly, leaning forward to brush his lips against Timmy's before pulling back and nudging his nose against Timmy's with a smile.

 

It matches the one on Timmy’s face. “You know what? Me too. I never thought I’d be a father this quickly or that it would bring me so much joy but it does. Just like loving you and having you return it does. I think I’ve never felt so complete in my whole life.” He confesses and pulls him in to press his lips against his, his tongue sneaking between his lips and claiming his mouth. He hooks his legs around Armie’s waist to keep him in place while he devours his mouth.

 

Armie's fingers dig into Timmy's legs a little, but he can't resist Timmy's hair and soon lifts his hand to tangle in it. He kisses Timmy back, tilting his head and breathing him in, his heart racing. Their makeout earlier left him dizzy and he hadn't been certain when they'd get another moment alone together would be. So now, presented with two sleeping children and  _ finally _ a door to keep them at bay, he takes what he can, knowing enough about life with kids that stolen moments could be few and far between. He isn't sure how far to push this yet, if he's even comfortable doing anything more than make out with the kids in the next room, but every time Timmy's tongue brushes against his, he loses the ability to process proper thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on the one hand im sorry im late with the upload but on the other now your wait time until the next chapter is less than a full week so honestly who's winning here **hides**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> patience is rewarded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the hella late update. blame me (linds) not nici-- I'll try to update midweek for yall to make up for it.

Timmy sighs and scoots closer to the edge of the counter. His legs are now tightly locked behind Armie’s back which he uses to press their erections together. The reaction is imminent and loud. They both freeze and listen breathlessly for any sign of movement coming from the rest of flat. “We should keep it low.” Timmy mumbles then and lets his head drop to Armie’s shoulder. He’s painfully hard at this point since they’d been dancing around each other all day. He already whined at the thought of having to deny his needs again.

 

"You can't make noise," Armie breathes, his hands running over Timmy's back and slipping under his shirt. "No noise," he says again, tugging at Timmy's ear with his teeth, knowing he was making it more difficult for Timmy to keep to the rule and finding some sense of adrenaline just thinking about it. He uses Timmy's position to his advantage and kisses his neck. "Is this okay?" he asks him quietly, his hands raking down his back.

 

Timmy nods against his shoulder, his heart racing in his chest. Maybe they’d manage to get an orgasm in. The prospect excited him so much he had to remind himself to reciprocate the touches. He lets his hands wander down, over Armie's clothed back and settles them on his ass. _Let's see how good you are at your own game._ He thinks and squeezes pushing him a little forward with the motion creating some sweet pressure. He has to bite into Armie's shoulder to keep quiet.

 

Armie exhales into the crook of his neck, his eyes closing and hands tightening on him, the thought passing through him that Timmy's trying to tease him like always. A part of him is frustrated that it's working, but mostly he's just hoping the kids don't wake up. He lifts his head and withdraws a hand from under Timmy's shirt to turn his face towards Armie. He leans in to kiss him delicately, lingering for a moment before capturing his lip between his teeth and pulling, his hand on his back tracing a line down his spine. He should stop, he knows—if they can't make noise, he should be more considerate with his touch, but he also remembers being in Timmy's hotel room in Austin and how it felt to make Timmy that breathless.

 

Timmy pulls back and looks at Armie's stricken face. He has an idea that would definitely ensure his win. He pushes Armie back a little so he can slip from the counter and switch their positions. He presses another kiss to his lips before going on his knees in one smooth motion. He settles his hands on his hips before leaning in and starting to mouth along the outline of the hard cock which the boxers don’t hide. He’s dreamed about doing this so often before. At least since he’d gotten to feel it up at the berm. But having his erect cock pressed against him in some scenes definitely helped the imagination along. But this is far better than all his fantasies because it’s real. He can feel the warmth through the fabric and can take in his unique scent with every breath.

 

"Ah— _fuck_ ," Armie mutters, his hands moving behind him to grip the counter. He mumbles something unintelligible as his head falls forward, his breath coming in short gasps. "Lock," he says. "Lock the door, please lock it." He would himself but he's not certain he can even move. Losing a battle of control never felt more like winning. It occurs to him that Timmy had seen him on his knees in front of him _many_ times filming, but this was the first time he'd ever seen him at his knees and _god_ did he enjoy it. It made him a little nervous, but in the kind of way that sets your blood on fire.

 

Timmy pulls back and tries to look casual at the pure display of desire on Armie’s which he’d put there. Him alone. He stands up although his knees feel shaky and walks over to lock the door. He feels nervous now. Although he’d anticipated this moment for the longest time he’s suddenly afraid he’d fuck it up and wants to put it off. He turns slowly and gives Armie a shaky smile hoping he wouldn’t see through it and then think he doesn’t really want this because he _does_. He’s just afraid to find out that maybe it isn’t all that great or perhaps he’s just really bad at sex with Armie. What if he doesn’t like it?

 

Armie tries to breath evenly but it's difficult. He notices how Timmy's looking at him and it sobers him a little. "You okay?" he asks, still a little breathless. "We don't have to do anything," he whispers. He wants Timmy back on him but he also wants Timmy forever, and if one came at the sacrifice of the other, he could wait. He runs a hand through his hair and tries to focus on words and the situation instead of his hard on and the image of Timmy on his knees.

 

Timmy bites his lips. He knows how much Armie wants this. “No, no. It’s okay.” He’s quick to assure him. “Just make sure to stay quiet.” He tells him. His worries are stupid. It would be fucking fantastic like the other things they’d done together. Determinedly he walks over and pushes Armie’s boxers down and without much fanfare takes him into his mouth. Not fully, just about half of it. He can taste precum on the tip and feel the pulse. The cock is hot and hard in his mouth. It’s not the first blowjob Timmy has given but those had been for sake of the experience. This means something. It counts now because he wants Armie to feel good. He hollows his cheek and pulls back, flicking his tongue over the slit.

 

The air leaves Armie's lungs in a hasty exhale, his head falling back as one of his hands grips Timmy's hair. He tries to stay steady, both in balance and in breathing, but it's fucking difficult. He'd had dreams about this before but never let himself linger on what he thought it would feel like, not unless he was trying to get himself off and thinking—usually a bit guiltily—of Timmy. He whimpers a little, pulling Timmy's hair tighter. _Quiet,_ he thinks, his head lulling to the side so he can look for a hand towel or something, reaching out for one and biting down on it to stop from moaning. Elizabeth had never been a big fan of blow jobs, and even when she'd done them in past, it had never felt like _this._ He's afraid he won't last long, his body on fire with every touch.

 

Timmy looks up at him and can’t help a soft chuckle. Armie looks rather adorable with the towel stuffed into his mouth. Soothingly he rubs Armie’s thighs and goes back to sucking down his cock. It’s good, he thinks. Armie likes this. It’s okay. When he tries to put all of him in his mouth and realises he can’t, he’ll have to swallow, his dick throbs. He pulls off for now leaving the challenge for later. His hands wander back Armie’s ass kneading it while his mouth goes on a journey south. His much talked about balls had not been appreciated enough yet, Timmy thinks and while he distracts him like that, he lets a finger slip into his crack, gauging his reaction. In most of his dreams he’s more than happy to submit to Armie but there are a few ones in which he’d taken control. Armie is not with a woman anymore and Timmy wonders if he’d expect this, if he’d even be open to being topped.

 

Armie's mind is momentarily full of white noise and he tries, he _tries_ to stop himself from moaning, but he can't. He knew this was possible, obviously he knew, he wasn't stupid. Knowing and experiencing, he learns, are two _vastly_ different things. He can't breathe properly but isn't sure if he ever did, if breathing was ever something that came easily or if he'd faked that all along, too. His hand in Timmy's hair goes limp, his hips pressing forward without his permission. He takes the cloth out of his mouth and mutters through ragged breath, "You're going to be the death of me." He can't bring himself to look down as Timmy tests him, the combination of his mouth and his finger making everything shift on its axis.

 

Timmy pulls back and licks his lips eliciting another soft groan with it. “Stuff your mouth.” He command and goes back to sucking at the base of his cock while his fingers traces around the hole. Nothing more than teasing. He kisses up the whole length and takes a deep breath as he reaches the head. _Alright here we go_ he thinks and opens his mouth wide to take him in. When he feels the head scratch the back of his throat he has to move catch Armie’s hips with his free hand because he bucks forward without control. He makes sure to remain a tight grip on him then as he adjust the angle and _swallows_. He wishes he could hear Armie. One day, certainly he would.

 

Armie bites into the towel hard, so hard his jaw hurts—and it still isn't enough. He's close, though he can't really convey that in any way other than gripping Timmy's hair and trying to move him. _Again,_ he wants to say, but he can't talk with the towel in his mouth and he's afraid if he takes it out he'll make enough noise to never be able to pay for the therapy his kids would need to forget it. He watches Timmy now, curious, his body overheating at the sight. He could die right now and it would be fine, he thinks. He whimpers again, wanting to cum but not knowing how else to ask Timmy to just finish him, and wonders at what point he became a needy lover; perhaps Timmy just brings this side out in him.

 

He pulls back slowly, jaw already sore from the stretch and swallows. It takes all of his power to hold Armie in place and yet the sounds he hears and the way he’s so needy and dependant on him turns him on. He can feel his own dick throbbing close to release. He blows softly on the wet head then wondering whether Armie would like that. By the way he twitches and bucks he assumes that yes, he does. He takes a deep breath before deepthroating him again then. He can feel the finger in his hair tighten, trying to pull him off but Timmy only sucks harder heady with idea of swallowing Armie, he recklessly pulls his hand that’s holding Armie in place away to touch his own dick. He just grabs it through the fabric and it’s enough. His eyes roll back into his head and every nerve ending prickles. When he moans through his release it sends Armie over the edge as well and he rocks them both forward. Timmy’s neck cracks a little from the sharp movement but then he feels the wetness in his throat, when Armie frantically tries to pull out in his mouth as well. He opens his eyes then, afraid Armie hadn’t licked this after all by the way of his hasty retreat. The cock falls from his mouth twitch once more and Timmy’s mouth is full of cum and his lips are stained. He swallows and licks. It’s a new taste, something now inevitably linked to Armie.

 

Armie spits the cloth out of his mouth, his body wasted and limbs numbing. "Sorry, sorry sorry," he mutters. He hadn't meant to cum in his mouth like that, pushing him forward, hurting him. "Are you okay?" His mouth is dry, his chest heaving, and he's not sure if he'll be able to hold himself up much longer. He sinks to the ground to avoid falling later, resting his head against the coolness of the counters under the sink. When they came in Austin together, he thought _that_ was bliss, something far more than he'd imagined simply because it was a reality. This, though...Armie was ready to pass out from pleasure, thinks he probably did black out and that's why he nearly fell on top of him when he came. He feels guilty now, and wonders if Timmy's upset. He reaches out and touches his leg carefully.

 

Timmy sighs, limbs feeling heavy and wet with sweat. Sex doesn’t feel like this, has never felt like this before. “Couldn’t be better.” He says with a wicked grin. “God this was insane.” He pants and slumps back on the tile which had felt cold formerly but were now pleasantly cool. A chuckle starts breaking it way free out of his chest, too much endorphins in his blood. He knows it’s weird to Armie though and he’d worry so he sits up taking his head. “This was wonderful. Thank you.” He lifts the hand to his mouth and kisses it. “I’d kiss you for real but you probably don’t want to taste yourself.” He points out.

 

Relief washes over Armie and he smiles, allowing himself to feed off of Timmy's bubbly energy. He shakes his head slightly, a little awestruck. He's reminded of the book, of their peach scene, _kiss me before it's totally gone._ He leans in and presses his lips against Timmy's, kissing him deeply. It tastes weird, knowing it's him making it even more strange, but it's coating Timmy's tongue and for whatever reason _that_ makes it worth it. He pulls back and loops his arms around Timmy's waist, snuggling his head onto his shoulder. "I didn't even touch you and you came," he whispers, a little bewildered, a bit impressed, the fact really just now setting in. He sighs and feels tired but determined not to fall asleep on the floor—that's all he needs, to literally pass out in a post-orgasm stupor on the floor of a locked bathroom. "Hey Tim," he says quietly. "I fucking love you."

 

Timmy’s mind is spinning with the taste of cum and spit in his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It just pent up and I couldn’t stop it.” He’s blushing, feeling his cheeks heat up. He came like some teenager and knew he’d have to learn to hold on for Armie’s sake. “I love you, too.” He mumbles and traces a lazy pattern on his back. “We should take a shower, we are both all sweaty, and then go to bed.” He suggests. He can feel his eyelids drooping already. Too little sleep, too much exertion, he thinks.

 

"Okay," Armie sighs. He stands slowly, reaching down to help Timmy up as well. He walks to the door and unlocks it, peeking his head out to make sure the kids were still asleep, before shutting and locking it again. "God, that's a fucking miracle," he chuckles, running a hand through his hair as Timmy turns the shower on. He walks over to him and kisses the back of his neck, his hands lifting the fabric of his shirt up to help Timmy take it off, then doing the same with his own shirt. Not that he hadn't enjoyed taking people's clothes off in the past, but he _really_ likes taking Timmy's clothes off. He can't explain why, it's more than just exposing skin, more like exposing hearts, vulnerabilities. It had always been like that, even in Crema. A shirt for an open expression. It was like bargaining with emotions and skin. He links his fingers in Timmy's damp boxers and smirks a little as he pushes them down just enough that they fall on their own to his feet. _There,_ Armie thinks. They hadn't seen each other fully naked since they were filming, and the connection to the past where it all began warms him a little with nostalgia.

 

Timmy sighs softly as Armie continues to kiss his neck. God this has to be heaven, he thinks and leans into Armie’s chest. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He murmurs and turns his head to press a kiss to his jaw. He takes his hands then and pulls him into the shower. It’s always such a romantic thing in the movies. Sadly these showers aren’t owned by young actors that are just barely making a living with their work. So they have to admit they can’t both fit into the shower cubicle and close the door. Even as they keep pushing and pulling. It’s so ridiculous Timmy bursts out laughing. “Seems like I have to banish you from the shower.” He apologises and kisses the pout from Armie’s lips.

 

Armie shakes his head and laughs, stepping out and leaning against the counter while he waits. They'd have to clean this place, he thinks, looking in the cabinet under the sink and smiling when he sees cleaning supplies. He grabs some antibacterial wipes and moves their pile of clothes, taking Timmy's cum stained boxers and putting them in the sink for the time being. He wipes down the counter and the floor, not wanting the image of his one year old crawling around somewhere their semen was. He tosses the wipe and walks up to the shower door. "Hurry up, it's cold out here," he mumbles. "I wanna go to bed." He knows he sounds pouty but he's also pretty sure Timmy likes that, so he doesn't filter himself.

 

Timmy chuckles and turns the water off sliding the doors open and slipping out. He grins at his pouty face and leans up to kiss his lips. “Your turn,” he promises and grabs the towel, drying himself while Armie takes his place. He can hear him curse as he knocks his elbow somewhere. They clearly had to move somewhere with a bigger shower. He looks around for his boxers and sees that Armie had cleaned up. Good boyfriend, he thinks smugly and relishes for a moment in the thought, lets it flood him from head to toe. His boxers were soaking in the sink so he looks around and spots Armie’s with a smirk he walks over and pulls them on before settling on the toilet to wait for Armie to finish.

 

It shouldn't be intoxicating to use his shower, it really shouldn't be, but it kind of is. Armie uses his body wash, and smiles when he realizes he'll smell a little like him now. He showers quickly, too eager to get into bed and hold him again. When he gets out, he takes a towel and dries off, his eyes lingering on Timmy. "You bastard," he laughs quietly, tying his towel around his waist. He walks over to Timmy and kisses him, his hand bunching up in the material at his thighs. "I was right, you just want me for my clothes," he teases, pressing another small peck against his lips and leaning back, releasing the fabric from his grip. "Will you get me something to wear, _please,_ " he says, still smiling. He couldn't _stop_ smiling, he felt lighter and more in love than he had in a long time, maybe ever.

 

Timmy hums like he’s still contemplating, then nods and presses another kiss to his lips. “Since you asked so nicely,” he mumbles and ruffles his hair before standing up and tiptoeing out. He can hear the kids breathe and it’s a surprisingly soothing sound he finds. He finds the suitcase and grabs a fresh pair of boxers before tiptoeing back and handing it to him. He sees the quiet question in his eyes. His kids, their kids, would always be a priority to Armie, he loves that about him. “Sleeping like little angels.” He assures him.

 

"Good," he whispers, pulling the boxers from his hand and putting them on. He grabs the rest of their clothes and makes a note to throw them in his clothes hamper when the go back in the room. Before they leave, he grabs Timmy's arm and pulls him in for one more kiss, lingering for a moment. He still kind of tasted like him but it wasn't as strong anymore. "Let’s go to bed," he mumbles against his lips, releasing his arm and stepping back to follow him out the door. They tiptoe out and Armie passes off the dirty clothes for Timmy to take care of before walking to his suitcase. He pulls out the sweater he brought for Timmy and a plain white t-shirt, putting the shirt on himself and tossing the sweater at Timmy as he walks over to him and the bed, glancing at both kids on the way. "You don't have to wear it now but I brought it for you," he whispers when he's close.

 

Timmy wishes he would never need it again but knows that between both their jobs it wouldn’t be possible. Thinking about summer made him nauseous already. He may be able to fly in once to visit him and the kids but they would be mostly separated. “Thank you.” He mumbles and brings it up to his face before slipping into it anyway. They climb under the covers then their bodies gravitating towards each other instantly. “I love you.” Timmy mumbles and snuggles into his side feeling his bone-deep exhaustion settle in at once. He yawns and closes his burning eyes.

 

Armie kisses the top of his head and says it back, though they both fall asleep so fast that he can't really tell if Timmy even heard him. He dreams of NYU of all places, walking the campus in the fall with the leaves changing colors, the sound of the city mixed with excitement from everyone around him. His hand is warm—he looks down at it and sees fingers between his, follows the line of the arm up to Timmy's face, a proud smile hanging on his lips. He looks a bit older, a dozen years or so, smile lines cornering his eyes and his hair a little shorter and more contained. He looks at him and turns fond, leaning up to kiss him. "Oh, come on! You promised not to be gross." Armie turns his head sharply at her voice, a blond-haired beauty with a backpack thrown over one shoulder crossing her arms and trying not to smile at them, her hair pulled up into a ponytail, studded earrings along both ears, wearing black jean shorts and a flowing white top. "You don't have to makeout every time I stop the tour, god. Don't make me regret letting you come to parent's day," she teases. "Dad?" she asks when he just stares. "Dad? _Dad!_ "

He jolts awake, Harper bouncing on the bed. "Wake up! I'm hungry!" Ford is standing in his crib and Armie knows just by the look on his face that he's about to start screaming. _Here we go,_ Armie thinks.

 

Timmy blinks his eyes open in horror as loud, high-pitched scream enters his ear. Oh my God, what had broken into his apartment? But when he feels his pillow moves he realises who is with him. Family morning, ding-dong, get your ass moving. Timmy groans. This would take some getting used to. He flops on his back and exchanges a glance with Armie. Dividing the work? Dividing the work. “Three.” Timmy says and watches Armie frown. He gives an encouraging nudge. “Two?” He says and Timmy nods. “One!” He concludes and jumps up picking Harper up and carrying her fidgeting little body to the bathroom. “Little girls who don’t brush their teeth don’t get breakfast,” he scolds playfully and sets her down to prepare her toothbrush. “Here you go. Brush your teeth properly and I’ll convince dad to make you pancakes.” He says and kisses her head. He leaves the door open on his way out so he can have an eye on her while he picks out clothes for her to wear.

 

Armie picks up Ford and rocks him, cooing and rubbing his back until he settles. His diaper is damp, so Armie sets out to change him first, smiling at Timmy when he comes out looking for clothes. He points to the right suitcase for him and starts changing Ford quickly so he doesn't scream more. He strips his pj's off and lets him toddle in just the diaper for now, though he has zero interest in being anywhere but wrapped up in his dad's arms. Carrying him, Armie walks over to Timmy and touches his hair softly. "Did I hear you promise pancakes?" Timmy smiles sheepishly and he just laughs, nodding and walking into the kitchen with Ford gripping his shirt, his head resting firmly on his shoulder. It's not the first time he's had to do this one handed, and not the first time Ford was the reason for it, so he's pretty practiced.

 

Timmy looks after them for a long moment before shaking the wonder he gets to have this a little and picks out some clothes for her to wear. He walks back into the bathroom after throwing a last look to Ford and Armie. The boy seemed to be clingy in the mornings.

“So let me see how you are doing,” he says when he enters the bathroom.

Harper extends her arms to be lifted up so she can rinse her mouth. Timmy takes a toothbrush and puts it in the sink. Then he hands her a water-filled cup and she gurgles the water before leaning over and spitting it into the sink. “Say aaah.” Timmy orders and acts like he’s inspecting her teeth. “Alright then.” He nods and hands her a towel. “Good job.” He presses a kiss to her cheek before putting her down and enjoys her giggle. “Time to get dressed.” She can handle a lot of it herself now and Timmy only lends a helping hand here and there. “I thiiink dad is already making pancakes. Wanna check?” he asks and she squeals and runs out before he can stop her. He follows her with a soft chuckle and her pyjamas in hand.

 

Armie lets out an _oof_ when she connects with his leg, wrapping her arms around him. "Good morning, Hops." He beams down at her. He usually wasn't a big fan of mornings, but he kind of liked the rhythm they'd already fallen into here. He flips a pancake and she gasps excitedly.

"Timmyyy! He's making them," she says, going up on her tiptoes to see more. Armie glances behind his shoulder and sees Timmy smiling at them. He finds himself staring a moment too long, too absorbed in the curls falling into his eyes, the sweater loose around his shoulders. "Flip it again," Harper says, pulling him back to reality and taking the pancake off the heat to avoid burning it. He pours more batter and rests his hand on Harper's shoulder.

 

Timmy shoves her pyjamas under her covers before joining them in the kitchen corner. Ford yawns at him and stuffs his thumb into his mouth. “Aww, are you tired, darling?” Timmy coos and and has to stand on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. Then he peeks around Armie’s back to look at the pancakes. “Mmh. Smells heavenly.” He hums and dips his finger into the dough before licking it clean.

 

Armie chuckles and shakes his head at him. "So impatient," he teases, nudging him with his arm. He keeps cooking with a small smile, his little family all around him. This is what he'd always wanted, and he thought he had it with Elizabeth at some point, but now that he had _this,_ he realizes what he'd been missing. When the food is all done, they bring the stuff over to the table and grab plates and forks. Armie puts Ford in his highchair and tears up some of a pancake for him before going to the fridge to grab some berries as well, grabbing juice for Harper along the way.

 

Timmy realises he hasn’t checked his phone yet when they all sit there together. He waits until everyone is finished and Harper has run off to draw again before he gets his phone and sits back at the table with Armie. They still have coffee which they lazily sip from with their feet touching under the table. He smiles at his lock screen before going through his messages. He’d have to update his friends on the situation he realises. But he had a text from his mom. She has talked with Pauline apparently. “Hey how about we visit my parents today? They want to see you and get to know the kids.” He explains and looks up at Armie with a warm smile. Including him into his family felt so right. After all, he’d given him one. Just looking over at Ford who’s still chewing on a piece of toast and thinking _our son_ makes him feel all sorts of warm and tingly.

 

"Sure," Armie says, trapping Timmy's foot between his. "Did they say when? The mornings are good for them, otherwise we have to wait until after lunch and a nap. But that means we'd have to leave here soon." He takes another sip of his coffee and knows he should probably check to see if Elizabeth wanted to check in on the kids—that's the responsible thing to do—but he has to get the courage up to turn his phone on first. He'd deal with that when they had a plan for the day. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad.

 

“I’m sure they can wait until this afternoon.” He says with a cheeky little grin and sends a text to his mom before putting his phone away again and taking another sip of his coffee. “I have some scripts I want to go over. Help me?” He asks.

 

"Sure," Armie smiles, glancing at the kids. He stays put though, running his foot over Timmy's with a sigh. Logically he knows he's a complete cliche right now, all affectionate and clingy the morning after. But he doesn't care, it feels too good to just exist with him like this. He didn't even really recognize himself, which means he may never have been able to truly be himself.

 

Timmy smiles at him and returns the movement. This is so good. Everyone around him content and happy. It may still be too early in the day but he can’t bring himself to care. Ford looks content how only Armie can with food and Armie himself is spreading such a sense of calmness and happiness that it has to be infectious. Harper comes running and demands their attention. Timmy puts his mug down and turns to her.

“Look what I drew!” She exclaims and climbs on Timmy’s lap this time.

“That’s beautiful.” Timmy murmurs and wraps his arms around her so she doesn’t slip off. She turns the picture to show Armie then. “Can you guess who it is?” She asks and turns to Timmy.

Timmy hums and looks at the five stick figures. One is exceptionally tall so... “This is dad?” He asks.

Harper nods. “He’s soooo tall and his arms are so long that they can hug the whole world! And this is me! Can you tell?” She asks.

Timmy nods obediently. “Her nose gives her away.” He says and bumps Harper’s.

She giggles.

If he continued that thought process the little thing would probably Ford. “Is that Ford?” He asks therefore.

“That’s clear though. Why do you have to ask?” She scolds him and Timmy ducks his head in mock fear meeting Armie’s eyes over her head.

“And this is mom!” She says and points to the figure next to Armie’s. “And this one here is you. We can put it on the fridge like at home, right, daddy?” Harper asks and looks up at him with big eyes.

Timmy’s chest hurts and he has to squeeze her a little tighter to his chest. He knows Elizabeth is going to always be a part of her life but he wishes she’d at least let stick figure Timmy stand next to Armie and not at the other end of the picture. It hits too close to the reality he’d known until recently for it not to hurt.

 

Armie watches Timmy carefully, rubbing his leg against his for some comfort. "That's very sweet, Hops. I can hold onto it for you," he says, reaching out for it. He'd offer to put it on Timmy's fridge, but to be honest, he isn't sure he wants it with Elizabeth being included. "Why don't you draw something for Timmy's fridge, too?" he suggests. He wants her to start seeing this as a home, too, and perhaps this would help. She nods and runs back to her crayons. Armie lifts a hand to Timmy's shoulder and swipes his thumb over him. "How about those scripts?" he asks quietly. He doesn't like the suddenly sad look in his eyes and wishes he could kiss it away.

 

Timmy sniffles for a moment and nods. “Yeah, let’s just... clean up and move to the couch.” He suggests and stands up to clear the table. He can feel that Armie is worried, sees it in his drawn up eyebrows and the sympathy in his gaze. Ford is finally done with his toast, too and they put him on the carpet in the living room area where he starts crawling around and playing with the toys he had left there yesterday all the while babbling to himself.

Timmy gets the scripts and settles on the couch next to Armie. “Here.” He says and hands them over before just slumping to his side. He hates himself for destroying the mood of their morning but he can’t help himself.

 

Armie turns his body a little, making Timmy shift, too so they're closer. He grabs a script and flips through it, resting his head on Timmy's. "Do you want to read lines?" he asks, reading through the first page and smiling a little. He thinks he knows which character Timmy's supposed to read for and he can already picture it. "Is this something you're auditioning for? It sounds interesting."

Timmy nods. “I want to continue with these small projects. Not that those studio ones are bad just- not something I can see for myself. I’d have to put on muscles probably and you would have to deal with my whining about the gym every day.” He teases sighing when he realises it’s true. Armie is here with him. If he’d told himself three years ago his life would consist out of reading lines with Armie Hammer on a lazy morning while their kids are sprawled on the carpet before them, he would’ve called himself crazy. But here he is. He leans his head against Armie’s shoulder and smiles as he starts reading and pauses for Timmy to say his lines. Of course he knew which role would interest him.

 

Reading with him again takes him back and he has to remind himself that the character he's reading for isn't a love interest. He can't keep a smile off his face as Timmy reads, stumbling on a line and backing up, focusing and nailing it. It's beautiful to watch him, even just reading lines. Armie misses his line, too lost watching him. Timmy looks up and nudges him, so he looks down quickly and says it. Luca had already been talking to them about the sequel, and reading lines with him again makes him want it desperately. The chance to act alongside him once more is something he'd been dreaming about since before they even finished filming when Luca first mentioned it in passing as something he'd considered. "I forgot how intense you are with scripts," he says. "In a good way, don't worry. It's just intimidating."

 

“Intimidating? Armie Hammer finds me intimidating?” He asks. It’s another thing three years younger Timo wouldn’t have believed. The amount of praise he’d get from Armie. He just hadn’t seemed like the time. Perhaps he wasn’t but he’d never held back compliments when Timmy had done some move, some changing of tone that had resonated with him. “Thanks. You know you had me intimidated first.” He nudges his shoulder. It takes Armie awhile to find the voice of each character since it’s the first time he’s reading the script and sometimes he’d stumble over a certain detail and reevaluate his take of the character. It’s amazing and mesmerising to watch at the same time. “You know, next year we are both going to get us one of those oscar trophies, alright?” He asks and grins. Either way when the event came around and one of them won they’d be able to thank each other ‘ _my wonderful boyfriend Armie Hammer_ ’. The daydream is sudden and vivid. They’d get to hold hands and exchange kisses on the carpet. Elizabeth could watch the kids that night so they don’t have to worry about them. Reporters may ask them if it’s something serious and they’d lean into each other and say ‘ _very_ ’ at the same time before grinning at each other. He’s suddenly pulled out of his dream when Armie nudges him.

 

"If you don't start paying attention I'll be forced to think this was an elaborate plan to sit close to me," Armie teases. He looks at the kids and sees Ford staring at them, which startles him so much that he starts laughing which only makes him toddle over to them. Harper looks up from her drawings and assessing the situation.

"Dad, can we watch cartoons?" she asks, looking around the room distractedly. He glances at Timmy and places a hand over Ford's on his knee and tells her sure before turning to grab the remote for the TV where they'd discarded it last night. He flips around until he finds her normal shows and keeps the volume kind of quiet. _Sorry,_ he mouths at Timmy with a shrug. Ford turns his body all around to stare at the TV but doesn't move from his place, though his hands tap Armie's leg excitedly when some character starts singing on the screen.

 

Timmy chuckles. It’s a little distracting but he doesn’t think it’ll end his career. They continue to run their lines quietly with their little family set up all around them. Sometimes Timmy would ask Armie for pointers and they’d discuss a certain quirk the character could have. They put it away at some point because their eyes stray to watch Ford’s reaction more often than not and Timmy still had enough time to work on it. Right now only their little family matters and how they settle in here. Timmy ends up taking a few videos of Ford getting excited whenever someone starts singing. He wishes he could stuff this morning in a glass so he’d always be able to have a taste of it again whenever he wants or needs it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SO. MUCH. DOMESTIC. FLUFF.

Armie traps Ford between his legs to make him laugh and Harper gets annoyed but doesn't complain too loudly; she's more than used to commotion and her show is more important to her than his giggles. "You should play piano for him some time, he loves it," he tells Timmy. "Sometimes he just sits all quietly when I pull out a guitar, it's adorable." He loosens his legs and then traps him again, earning another fit of giggles before he reaches down to pick him up and let him sit with them. He crawls over their laps to the other side of the couch and slides down onto the floor, running back to Armie and reaching up to do it again.

 

They let him pester them with it for awhile until he’s tired of it himself. Then annoying his sister becomes the new goal. He doesn’t get violent but stopping Harper from letting her watch her show is enough for _her_ to get a little rough. She shoves him out of the way and he tumbles over, his legs not yet so good with catching such sudden movements. He starts crying immediately. It’s more the shock than anything else but it forces some parental intervention anyway. “Hops, don’t just push your brother around. Ask him to move out of the way first and then be gentle if you have to move him.” Timmy scolds while Armie gets up to wipe his tears and put him back on his feet again. It’s normal behaviour between siblings, Timmy can remember quite clearly the fights he’d had with his sister. Not at this age but he guesses it’s something that never changed. In a minute Ford had forgotten his distress and was enthusiastically stuffing his wood toys into his mouth while making the most satisfied face like chewing on them is actually a nice and pleasant thing to do.

 

Armie rubs Timmy's shoulder when he walks back to the couch and sits down. Harper shouts at Ford and Armie rolls his eyes, knowing intervening when it wasn't a rude comment or anything would only make it worse. He'd step in if she tried taking the toy, he decides. Hopefully they'd get all this out of their system before the afternoon. "Hey, I didn't derail your life, did I?" he asks suddenly. There's something about the momentary chaos that makes him realize he'd given almost no notice of this trip, no notice of his entire life shifting to include Timmy, no notice of this responsibility. He could have had plans, trips, obligations. "I know I threw all this at you out of nowhere, if you have stuff you need to do, let me know. Seriously. I don't want us to make you miss something." He knows Timmy would probably tell him he wasn't missing anything, but he worries. He'd been good so far at _not_ worrying about it, but the kids are getting rowdy and he's introducing them to his parents today and that feels pretty major, and he's 22, and Armie sprung all this on him with like 48 hours’ notice.

 

Timmy shakes his head. “Rather felt like I was missing out before.” He explains and meets Armie’s gaze evenly. He can feel he’s looking for signs that he’s lying. He has to be honest with him, he realises. He _wants_ to be honest with him. “Look, maybe I didn’t expect to be a-“ He looks around at Harper and Ford, the toys strewn across the floor and the cartoon still running on television. Yes. “A father this soon but I love this family with you. I love the kids and I love _you._ ” He says and taps his chest for emphasis. “Yes, it derailed my life.” He admits then because that is also the truth. “Suddenly I feel the responsibility of a lover and a parent and it’s pretty confusing because the rules are hard to grasp, but it’s a challenge I love. This has derailed my life as much as meeting your gaze the first time, you know? In the best way possible.” He doesn’t have to lower his voice much for the kids not to hear anything since they are both still screaming at the top of their lungs.

 

Armie nods and searches his face. "Tell me the second you need a break. Everyone needs one at some point," he tells him. "I'm glad you're embracing it, I really am. But I don't want this to ever be something you..." He doesn't know how to express his concern without it sounding harsh, but he wants this conversation out of the way before they bring Timmy's family into this. "I don't want you to resent me for doing this. I know you love them, I know that. But it's a lot, Timothée. I mean, god, we're trying to talk and they're causing mayhem and this is a pretty good day if I'm honest. I know you love them like your own but this sort of thing... sometimes people let it all build up and then freak out and don't want to be a part of the kids' lives anymore. I can't—that can't...happen..." He takes a deep breath and places a hand on Timmy's leg. "But—You say you're good, so I'll believe you and leave it and we can move on. Just promise me you'll tell me if it's too much." He knows he's forcing an issue that isn't an actual issue right now, but he needed that comfort of knowing Timmy would tell him if he needed space. They were all risking so much already, he didn't want to make the stakes even worse by throwing on added stress no one needed. He wants him for the long term, which means establishing this early on.

 

Timmy nods. “I understand. Thank you. I mean it. I promise I’ll tell you if I need a break.” He puts his hand over Armie’s for a moment when the shrieks reach a new height.

Timmy hisses and touches his ears in a move to protect them. Harper has torn away Ford’s toy now and is running off.

“Oh dear.” Timmy sighs. “Hey dad of the year. Work your magic.” He teases Armie and nudges him.

Watching Armie with his kids is always great. The definition of a soft giant. But he’s also firm in educating them. Timmy doesn’t think he’s ever shouted. He never had to because they respect and love and will listen to him when he’s saying something. And if they don’t... well, Armie probably supposes that they’re not ready to listen yet. In that case he just gives Ford one of Harper’s toys. Works fantastically to start a trade relationship. At the end both have their toys back and Armie starts preparing lunch in the kitchen. Ford toddles over and demands to be lifted up by Timmy on the couch. He does as he’s told and the little boy snuggles in his chest. Timmy smiles and draws patterns on his back as he sniffles and continues to chew on his plushie.

The peace is interrupted by a knock at the door. Surprised, Timmy adjusts Ford so he’s propped on his hip and walks over to the door.

His neighbour stands in front of it. She stares at the child in his arms with big eyes.

Timmy gives her a charming smile and turns to Ford. “Say hi.” He tells him but he hides his face in his neck embarrassed. “Oh he’s a bit shy.” He apologises.

The woman seems to have found her voice again. “I just- Uhm. I wanted to ask whether this is a permanent situation. There has been a lot of children screaming from your flat lately.”

“Oh. Well-“ Armie had told him he’s only going to stay for two weeks up to now. “The next two weeks probably. We’ll be looking at other flats in the long term.” He explains. It feels to great to admit it out loud.

She nods. “Okay. I’m just- congratulations!” She chuckles but it’s terribly awkward.

Timmy accepts it though. “Thank you.” He grins and presses a kiss to Ford’s cheek who wiggles in his arms with a little giggle.

“To the mother, too.” She nods.

Timmy raises an eyebrow and his expression sobers without his control.

“Yeah, well. She’s not in the picture.” He says a bit cold.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She quickly apologises.

“Lunch!” Timmy hears Armie declare from behind him as well as Harper’s cheers.

“Well, I have to go.” Timmy says and watches how her eyes widen focused on something behind him. He turns and sees Armie in one of his aprons. His face immediately lights up and he’s unable to stop it.

 

Armie's almost to Timmy's side when he sees the neighbor and feels his cheeks blush a little, but pushes the embarrassment away. He walks over to Timmy and finds he actually kind of enjoys the absolute shock on her face at seeing him. Something in him takes over and he slides his hand down onto Timmy's ass, extending the other to greet her. "I'm Armie," he says easily. She just gapes at him. And he. Is. Amused. He turns over his shoulder and sees Harper already running to the kitchen to get her cup of juice, completely unfazed by their guest. Typical. His limbs are not his own—clearly—because he would _never_ grab Timmy's ass in front of a stranger....except that's what he's doing and he can't stop. The woman blushes a little and says goodbye, turning to go back to her apartment. He waves as she goes and lets out a breath, adrenaline going through him as he steps away from Timmy's wide eyes and drops his hand. He shrugs and laughs a little, still uncertain of what exactly came over him.

 

Timmy slaps him. “You smug piece of-“ He stops himself. No cursing in front of the kids. He shakes his head again. “You fucking enjoyed that.” He tries to stay angry but breaks out laughing eventually. “God her face.” He gasps and wipes tears of laughter away. He leans into Armie’s body with a sigh. Everything just seemed lighter and easier with Armie at his side. He looks up at him and thinks _please make me laugh like that for the rest of my life._

 

Armie shakes his head, "No cursing." He messes with his hair playfully. "And yes, for the record—I did enjoy that," he smirks, leans in as if he's going to kiss him, then turns at the last second to attack Ford's cheeks with kisses until he giggles with delight. Armie smiles fondly at them and walks away towards the table, sitting down and knowing Timmy would follow. He could get used to this.

 

Timmy straps Ford into his high-chair before sitting down to eat. It’s idyllic as always. “So dad and I thought we would visit my parents today. Is that okay, Hops? They want to get to know you and see dad again.” He explains once they’re all finished. Nap time would come first of course but it’s probably good if they know what to expect after.

 

"Can I bring toys?" she asks, looking at Armie. He shrugs, tells her sure. "Okay!" She runs off to the foot of the couch where her stuff was scattered and he sighs.

"Not right now, Hops. We have to take naps first, remember? After your nap we'll go."

"No, let's go now!" She says, grabbing toys and walking over to her shoes. Armie puts a hand on Timmy's shoulder as he stands and goes over to her, crouching down.

"Sweetie, we're taking a nap first so we can play longer at their house, okay? We can pack up the toys when you wake up, but not before. Do you understand?" She pouts and nods reluctantly, twirling away from him and flopping down on the couch.

"I wanna sleep in Timmy's bed!" she declares, getting up and running over to it, climbing up and hiding under the covers.

"Harper, we bought a bed _just for you,_ " he says a bit exasperated. She's stubborn and he loves that about her, but it also makes everything infinitely more difficult with her. She pops her head out from the covers and giggles when she sees him walking towards her, pulling the blanket back over her head. He sits down and covers her body with his, careful not to actually put his weight on her as his chest rests over her. She squeals and laughs, trying to tickle him to get him to move. "Sorry, Hops. It's my nap time, too. This is where I sleep," he teases, rolling to the side and tickling her, pulling the covers off in one practiced move. She climbs on top of his chest and lays down, her little hands trying to keep his arms at bay. He pretends he's been pinned and turns his head to look at Timmy with a smile.

 

Timmy’s heart flutters in his chest. Armie’s smile isn’t the widest but it seems all the more sincere. “Hey Ford.” He says. “They’re starting without us. Let’s not miss out.” He lifts him up and walks over to the bed so they settle next to them. “Nap time.” He tells Ford and strokes his back before turning his head to Armie and Harper. “Do you need help?” He asks Armie and pokes Hops’ side so that she flinches and giggles.

 

He shakes his head. "If you don't want them sleeping in here then I guess, but I'm feeling lazy," he laughs. He really wants Timmy closer, much closer, so maybe the kids sleeping in the bed is a bad idea. They look so cute cuddled up with them, though. It's hard to resist. Harper's arms are folded on Armie's chest and she watches him with sleepy eyes as he watches Timmy.

 

Timmy pulls his phone out of his pocket and scoots a bit closer so they can all fit into the picture. He takes a picture from above and sends it to Nick. _Nap time_ , he adds before looking at Harper then at Armie. She’s clearly thinking and he feels a twist of fear at what she’s going to ask.

 

"Did you send it to Mommy?" she asks, looking between Timmy and Armie. The first thought Armie has is that he needs to start being more clear, she isn't ever going to catch on if he isn't _clear._

"Hops—" he starts. She looks at him with wide eyes and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"Send it to Mommy," she says quietly, almost like a secret. That's when he sees it—something behind those wide eyes that had been brewing quietly during drawing time and shopping, between the night she crawled into bed with him in LA and now. _She knows something's wrong._

"Harper, I don't think that's a picture for Mommy," he says softly, his heart _racing._ She pouts and huffs out her breath, looking back at Timmy. "He's not going to tell you any different," he says, lifting a hand to her back which she promptly shrugs off. "I'll send her one of you after your nap, okay?" She's tired but not enough to cave to sleep just yet, meaning she's in that _wonderful_ in between where she'll fight you then pass out from exertion. "Let's just close our eyes—"

"NO!"

"Harper, your brother is trying to sleep," he tells her, sitting up and pulling her into a hug just tight enough to keep her from running away, _shush_ ing her and stroking her hair. "Let's just take a nap, Hops. You don't even have to sleep, let's just snuggle up, okay? Please?" He doesn't want to have this fight yet, and he's not even sure if she actually knows something is going on, but right now it might not even matter. She fights him a bit but he presses kisses against the top of her head and hums a song she likes, his eyes darting over to Timmy, trying to tell him with just one look that it's okay, not to worry, it happens sometimes. He continues to rock her gently and she starts humming back to him, her fists turning soft in his shirt instead of angry at his sides. "Do you want to snuggle in this bed or in yours?" he whispers. She doesn't answer, just turns her head and pushes his arms away to crawl under Timmy's blanket.

 

Timmy can’t help his emotions getting the better of him and when he looks at Armie he knows he’s teary eyed. The moment would come and they’d have to work their way through this. This is just a small forerunner. He reaches out and touches Armie’s arm needing him closer suddenly. He lifts the covers and slips underneath them, carefully not to wake Ford who has his hand fisted in his shirt and is drooling happily. With a pleading look he pats the space next to him. “Please.” He says softly and snuggles into his side instantly. They lie in silence for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles and hopes it’s quiet enough for Harper not to hear. “God, I’m so sorry that you have to do this.” One of his hands clenched in Armie’s shirt tightly.

 

"Don't," Armie sighs. "It'll be fine, okay?" he whispers, trying to convince them both. She hadn't run off to her bed, which may or may not be good to be honest, but at least she isn't downright fighting them. Harper gives up on being mopey and scoots closer to Armie until he's trapped between all the people he loves most. He senses Timmy wanting to say more, so he shakes his head to try silencing him. There would be time to talk, now, when she wasn't even asleep yet, was not the time. When he's certain she's drifted off, he lifts a hand to Timmy's face and rests it on his cheek. Not enough passes between them without words these days, he thinks. He lets out a deep sigh, knowing every comment she was going to make would hurt him even if it isn't the intent. Every mention of her until the divorce papers are signed would hurt, and he hates it. He _must_ know Armie wouldn't have come here if he wasn't absolutely certain, 100% in this with him. "It's you and me," he whispers, his fingers slipping into Timmy's hair momentarily before returning to his cheek.

 

Timmy nestles his face into his hand and takes a deep breath. Armie is right. This is about them, about them being together and leading the life they actually want to lead. They fought so hard for this, they are not going to stop now. He settles his hand over Armie’s and entwines their fingers. “Forever.” He whispers and turns his head to kiss the inside of his hand with a small sigh. “I love you more than you will ever be able to understand.” He mumbles and turns to meet his eyes again.

 

"I know," Armie whispers, because it's _true._ He would never understand—he could come close in how he loved Timmy, but to understand how and why Timmy loved him made him breathless and dizzy, like contemplating the mysteries of the universe or thinking about the spectrum of time as it exists before and after you. It was impossible. He simply couldn't comprehend the look in his eyes. His thumb slips back to catch on Timmy's ear before his ever present desire to hold onto him leads his hand to pull both of theirs over the expanse of Timmy's jaw, down, resting over his heart and just above Ford. He tries to consider the beating of it, the consistent if not a little quickened feel of what kept him alive in this bed, how in Timmy's mind it beats for _him._ He's overwhelmed instantly, doesn't know how to convey what he feels, how small he feels in Timmy's bed with those eyes looking up at him, holding him like the gravity he is.

 

Timmy places his hand over Armie’s and squeezes it for a moment before moving closer until he can nestle his nose into his shoulder. He considers what he’d just seen in Armie’s eyes and wonders how one could ever take him to be shallow. Their minds are more in tune than anyone else’s or that’s what Timothée likes to think and yet he always finds something that he can’t decipher. It’s fascinating and makes him want to know him even better.

His focus shifts to the hand on his chest then, considers its weight on him and how it feels so grounding. It’s soothing.

“Is that how parents sleep? Whenever their kids let them?” He mumbles eyes slipping closed.

 

Armie chuckles a little, watching his eyelashes fall against his cheekbones. His hand is warm and so is his heart as he presses a kiss against Timmy's head. "Yeah, sadly. Your schedule becomes theirs, at least when I'm home that is, or if they visit on set or something. Gets complicated," he yawns. "Nap time is sacred, though," he smiles against Timmy. And it is, with him, it _is_. It means something to be wrapped up in his blankets and sheets with his kids acting as if this is the new normal without batting an eye. It means something to feel the sunlight stream in through windows and feel the warmth of Timmy's breath against him like this. He'd been going to church his entire life and yet in his arms, in his bed, he felt the divine in a new and somehow profound way.

 

Timmy sighs, feeling safe and secure with the people he loves strewn around him. It’s almost ridiculously easy to drift off right then. He doesn’t dream or if he does, he doesn’t remember it when he wakes up. Ford is wiggling against his chest and Timmy smiles down at him. Armie is snoring softly and even Harper is still knocked out. Timmy hates to take his hand from Armie’s but it’s necessary to stroke Ford’s back. Maybe he’d calm down and go back to sleep. Timmy’s hopes are in vain because soon Ford starts screaming. His diaper, Timmy figures and lifts Armie’s hand from his shoulder but presses a last kiss to it before getting up. “We can do this buddy, can’t we?” he says and rocks him gently to get him to calm down. He grabs the necessities that Armie had pointed out to him when he’d shown him how to do this. He flies into the bathroom with them hoping to grand father and daughter some more sleep.

 

Armie wakes up as soon as Ford makes noise, but he feels Timmy's hand and his shift in the bed and decides to keep his eyes closed. Timmy's trying, he knows this. He wants to let him try to be that person Armie can rely on with the kids, and it isn't that he doesn't already, but trusting someone to watch your kids and trusting them to wake up in the middle of the night to soothe away tears are two different forms of trust. In his sleep, Harper had shifted so her back was pressed against his side, so he lifts his arm and tucks her closer, smiling when she turns towards him and grabs the blanket gently, settling back in and falling asleep again. They hadn't been out for very long, not quite their normal nap period, so he lets her. The crying from the bathroom settles some and the tightness in Armie's chest he didn't realize had taken shape begins to subside. To keep his eyes open or closed for him, he isn't sure. Closed, he decides. Perhaps they could cuddle together a little longer before the chaos of day falls upon them once more.

 

Timmy emerges proud and with a clean Ford. He presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Daddy is gonna be so proud of us when he wakes up.” He whispers when he sees that Armie still has his eyes closed and is breathing regularly. “Can we sleep some more?” He mumbles and carries him over to the bed where he sits him down before sliding under the covers himself. Ford is determined on his goal and climbs on Armie’s chest where he collapses and giggles at an exasperated Timmy, even slapping his tiny hands in front of his mouth in joy. “You’re gonna wake him up.” Timmy scolds. He’d scooted in until his side was pressing against Armie’s. In effort to calm the boy he starts humming a random song that comes to mind. He smiles when he realises what tune it is. “Blessed be the mystery of love.” He mumbles as he sees Ford’s eyes slip closed.

 

Armie tries desperately not to smirk—what good is his career as an actor if he can't do that—when Ford nuzzles into his chest. If he could, he would capture this moment—not the image, but the emotion, the weight of each of them against him, surrounding him until he's encompassed in pure love. The song makes it hard not to react and he knows it's a losing game he's playing, pretending to sleep when Timmy is doing this. There isn't an ounce of his being that isn't completely in love with him.

He remembers the first time they heard the song, sitting too close for what they were back then, tears filling the eyes of everyone in the room. He remembers not caring anymore, pulling him against his body in a tight hug after they'd listened to all of them, his hand caught in Timmy's hair, his breath caught in his throat. There were nights he fell asleep thinking about that hug and how Timmy had grasped at him, the air sputtering in and out of them without reason as they lost themselves in the song that blurred the last of the lines with mentions of their own physical attributes and tendencies. He turns his head towards him now, thinks of opening his eyes but realizes he isn't going to be prepared for the love he finds there. His face scrunches up as he pensively tries to record this moment in his mind without letting tears form in the corners of his eyes. Timmy's so close he can feel his body radiating warmth and love against him. He reaches his fingers out until they connect with Timmy's, just brushing against him. _I heard you and I love you,_ the touch says. It's all he can manage in the moment, or at least that's what he tells himself. He's still getting used to this love, though he thought it would be far easier to accept it blindly.

 

Timmy is perhaps less surprised than he should be when he feels the touch against his fingers. He has to smiles and tangles their fingers together and presses a kiss to his shoulder showing him he understood. They might talk about it when they wake up again, they might not. They are good at exchanging unspoken words with glances, touches and songs. It feels like he has a reached a goal now with the people Armie loves all around him. He knows Armie feels that and appreciates it. He wants to promise him that it’s always going to be like that now. But for one, there are some issues that they need to work out which had the potential to destroy this pretty happiness but he would also just like to show him what life is like from now on. He’d continue with that when they had their big family get-together with his parents. Timmy closes his eyes and let’s sleep wash over him again.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> god this is fluffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i expect all of you to have heart eyes as a result from this domestic meet the parents FLUFF

Armie, however, can't sleep. Timmy's fingers go slack between his and he feels with deep appreciation the fragility of life all around him and the vulnerability granted him in this moment. His eyes drift from one sleeping form to another, each a piece of his heart. Time passes with a daydream, Armie's eyes on the ceiling or Timmy for most of the solitude. There's something lovely about the smoothness of his cheeks, the curl in his hair and how it flops over on itself, the dark lashes casting shadows. He doesn't look younger like Armie expects, but rather more innocent. Less concerned with life, less helplessly in love. Just Timmy, just calm, unapologetic, beautiful, Timmy. He rarely saw him like this, his default facade of relaxation. His foot drifts over to Timmy's, though he's not sure why, he's asleep and won't react. But he craves it all the same, to feel something more to keep him from floating away in the soft afternoon glow.

It's Harper who wakes up first, her arms and legs stretching out and slinking out from under Armie's reach to go off towards her bed to grab her stuffed bunny and a book, returning to Timmy's bed and trying to climb up with her things. "Dad," she whispers loudly. He rolls his eyes but smiles and reaches out with one hand to take her book before reaching his arm out for her to use to help climb back up. She sits down facing him and pushes hair out of her sleepy eyes, the bunny clutched to her chest. Armie knows the book is there for a reason and she wants it read to her, but he can't move with Ford trapping him, and he selfishly can't bring himself to untangle his fingers from Timmy's under the covers just yet.

 

When Armie doesn’t move Harper sighs and rolls her eyes, grabbing the book and shoving it into his direction. “Read it to me, dad.” She demands but sees the look he gives her. “Please.” She adds then. “Pretty please.” She cocks her head at him knowing he can never resist it.

Timmy shifts at the voices he hears and gives a sigh. It’s so warm and comfortable he never wants to move again.

Harper takes the book and lies on her back, cuddled close to Armie’s side. “You have to hold it and then read to me,” she says and opens it on the page he wants him to start reading at.

 

Armie squeezes Timmy's hand before reluctantly pulling it away, his eyes caught on the way Timmy's flutter open and then closed again. He reaches down to shift Ford until he can rest on Timmy's chest instead, watching as he whines a little at the movement but settles quickly. Carefully, Armie touches Ford's head and soothes his hand over his back with a content smile. "Dad," Harper draws out, he hands pulling at him. He sits up a bit and grabs the book, sighing and wrapping an arm around her so she's tucked to him. He starts reading to her softly, their little moment enclosed in steady breathing, caught in transit between dreams and reality, stuck in the rays of afternoon sunlight escaping the curtains.

 

Timmy wakes softly to the steady murmur of Armie’s voice. When he moves he feels a tiny hand tighten in his shirt and smiles before even opening his eyes. When he does he sees that Armie has moved up the bed and Harper is tucked into his side. Both of them are focused on a book. He can feel Ford waking up against him and watches as his little eyes flutter open. “Hey there,” he mumbles. “Let’s see what dad and Hops got up to, huh?” He suggests and pulls him up with him. Ford watches awhile but gets bored and grabs the edge of the book pulling it closer and biting into it. It’s so surprising that it startles a laugh out of Timothée.

“That’s a book, you silly goose. You have to read it to get to know what’s inside, not eat it. People would be a whole lot smarter if that were the case,” he says and pulls him close to his chest nuzzling his neck so that his curls tickle him.

 

Armie laughs a little when Ford grips Timmy's hair and turns vocal. They're lucky Ford is a pretty easy kid most of the time when it came to waking up. Harper cried a lot when she was tiny and got up in the mornings or from naps. Ford wasn't so fussy, mostly just needy and clingy. "What time are your parents expecting us?" he asks Timmy, reaching out and brushing his fingers along Timmy's hand. It seems too normal to be asking this, asking when the kids would go visit his parents. As if it wasn't the first time. As if he wasn't nervous about it going well.

 

“I don’t think they’ve said a time. I told them we have nap time first and would come as soon as we manage afterwards,” he explains and tickles Ford’s side, making him dissolve into little squeals. “So basically whenever we are ready,” he concludes and catches Ford in his arms again who had been about to wander off and possibly fall off the bed.

 

"Alright, I think they're getting restless," Armie laughs, putting the book down. Harper protests but he reminds her they're going on an adventure to visit Timmy's parents and she seems to accept this reason to interrupt story time. She hops off the bed and he follows, pulling his hands through his hair and then adjusting his shirt. "I'd say check his diaper but I know it's probably fine," Armie says, turning to look at Timmy with a small, almost proud smile.

 

Timmy blushes. “Yeah I think so too.” He stands up and Ford is excited at being carried. “Yes buddy. We are going on an adventure now. Okay, what do we need? The diaper bag. Hops, you packing some toys?” He doesn’t have to say it twice. “Some snacks?” he asks Armie.

 

Armie nods and walks into the kitchen area to pack a bag of snacks for the kids. Before long, they're putting socks and shoes on and changing Ford's clothes so he's not just in a onesie. While they're getting ready, Armie presses his hand to Timmy's shoulder blade, letting his hand linger for a moment. He isn't certain how to navigate this, trying to assimilate touch into their lives around the kids without making Harper feel displaced or weary of it. It's hard not to touch him though, even innocently, even in moments of everyday tasks. He'd spent so long using careless and innocent touch with Timmy to fill a void he didn't realize he could fill by telling Timmy how he felt—now that it held more weight, he hesitates more often than he thinks he probably should. "Are you ready?" he asks Timmy.

 

Timmy nods taking a deep breath. “One more thing.” He says and pulls him a bit away from the kids even if Harper eyes them critically. “Can I tell my parents? That we are in a relationship, I mean? Or is that something you are not ready to commit yourself to this quickly?” he asks. He needs to know. He doesn’t want to make the rounds telling all his friends, only to have to go back and say _sorry my fault we are just friends after all._

 

 _Relationship_. Somehow the word doesn't feel right, as if to suggest what they had was normal, something other people might experience as well. Would he call him his boyfriend? That sounds even worse, far too informal, not quite important enough. He'd never had a boyfriend, but to call Timmy that would feel like downplaying what he was. Committing before there were even papers also didn't quite feel fair, but he's also pretty decided at this point that his only path forward is with Timmy at his side. Armie nods, his eyes softening at Timmy. "I want to tell them," he whispers. It had felt _so good_ to tell Pauline, for her to see them and embrace them. He remembers Marc's words the last time he saw him, how kind he'd been, how understanding—so unlike his own father. He wants to tell him, because at least there would be one father involved who looked at them together and smiled. He wants to tell Timmy's mom, who always seemed to know how they felt but let them figure it out for themselves. He wants them to see his children and watch them interact with their own son and know that it meant something other than heartache.

 

Timmy smiles and only barely stops himself from kissing him. “Good.” Armie is his now, belonged to him, inseparable at his sight, is him now. “Good. Let’s go.” He hopes he can communicate what it means to him with his eyes because they can’t do anything else right now. They shoulder the bags and Timmy takes Harper’s hand again as they march out of the apartment. Timmy had organised for them to be picked up and brought to the apartment complex his parents live in.

They take the elevator up and Timmy lets Harper ring. He can feel nervousness come up quickly and strongly. This is _just_ his parents. They know Armie already and his kids are too adorable to be turned away. There’s really nothing to worry about but he can’t stop.

His mom opens with a bright smile. “Maman.” Timmy says and hugs her. In her arms the worry suddenly disappears and he’s only left with a pleasant giddiness. “Let me introduce you. This is Harper or Hops for short. This is Ford. And you already know Armie. My boyfriend.” He smiles softly at him. It feels good to be saying it. It may not encompass everything that they are to each other and yet it feels important to show the world that they belonged together in _that_ sense now.

 

Armie tenses at the title, holding his breath, his eyes darting to Harper who doesn't seem to understand. She's peering around them, looking inside at something. "Daddy," she whispers intensely, "A piano!" He smiles and relaxes a little, entirely relieved she didn’t notice, turning his attention to Timmy's mom. _This is okay,_ he thinks. _No big deal._ She looks between Armie and Timmy warmly before pulling Armie into a tight hug, mindful of Ford in his arms.

"It's lovely to see you again," he says, and he means it. Harper sneaks past Timmy and tugs at Armie's hand, her eyes imploring. "Okay, okay, we can go look at the piano," he laughs. "Sorry, she's got a thing for musical instruments. I'm pretty sure she thinks I play all of them; one day she's going to be sorely disappointed. Do you mind?" he asks as they all enter the apartment.

 

His mom shakes her head and is happy to watch them flood the room with life. Harper climbs on the stool quickly and stares at her dad challengingly as she presses a key. Timmy appears by her side though. “You should always ask before using someone else’s instrument,” he explains and begins to play a little melody that has her clapping with delight. He turns to Armie. They’d done this in Crema. Neither was a master of the piano but it was enough to play little tunes together. Whenever Timmy became too upset by it Armie would cheer him up with it. “Please,” he begs him closer now asking for the same thing.

 

Armie smiles and walks over. He puts Ford down, waiting until he's standing without clinging to him and then sits down on the bench, his fingers resting on the keys. It had been awhile but he'd always loved the piano—not as much as guitar, but enough. He plays something he's never played for Timmy before—it's one of Harper's favorites though, and she watches him happily. He doesn't have to look to know Ford's watching as well—he always did. They should get a piano, he thinks. It was only a matter of time before Harper started learning, and then in the blink of an eye Ford would be, too.

 

Timmy watches fascinated and then watches the kids being fascinated. They both love their dad and Timmy understands why. When Armie’s fingers fall from the keys he answers with another tune. Harper claps delighted. “What about racing scales?” It’s a game they’d also played to get Timmy better at handling the piano. They’d decide on a scale and had to try to beat each other in playing it fastest. Timmy picks C major. It had been awhile and could still look impressive. He starts slow. It’s cleverer in the long run if you get a little faster each time.

 

Armie smirks and plays along, though he's not as practiced as he wishes. Harper watches and then decides she understands what they're doing, her own hands lifting to the keys and hitting wildly. Armie starts laughing and pauses his scale, tickling her side momentarily. "Here, watch my hands," he says, pressing a key and then pointing at one for her to play. She gets bored after a few keys and tells him to play again, but Ford is demanding attention, hitting the piano bench next to him.

 

Timmy chuckles. “Is it okay if I play it again?” Harper nods and he does it as fast as he can. Her mouth is still open when he stops. He’s not actually that fast but her never having seen a professional seems to help. Armie has lifted Ford up who is hitting the keys. “Someone sure slept well during that nap time,” Timmy states as Armie quickly pries him away. “You wanna play with your toys, Hops?” he asks and she nods, running to get her little backpack. “We have to keep him close. Nothing is babyproof here,” he points out Armie as Ford makes a silly face and starts running in little circles.

Only now does Timmy remember that they’re not alone. “Sorry, mom. They can be a handful.”

 

Armie watches as Timmy handles the situation and tries not to chuckle, his eyes lit with amusement. Timmy fell into this role so quickly that it was a little startling, to be honest. He took authority and worried about the right things already—Armie wonders how long he'd been thinking about this moment, about being given any sort of stewardship over his children. It had to have been something he thought about quite a lot for him to act like this. Not that Armie minded too much—he found it endearing and a bit comforting to see how Timmy embraced this chaos instead of reluctantly putting up with it. Armie glances at Nicole and sees a slightly entertained, slightly bewildered expression on her face. It only makes him smile, knowing she was seeing him in a new light. Marc comes in then, apologizing for not walking out into the living room sooner; he'd been on a phone call, he explains. Armie walks towards him, extending a hand which he accepts eagerly with a hand on Armie's shoulder and a smile. "Marc, nice to see you again," he smiles. Ford leans out to him, trying to form words as he points at Marc. Armie tries to decipher him but comes up short. "I guess he likes you," he laughs. "This is Ford, my son."

"May I?" Marc asks, gesturing to him. Armie nods and holds him out, Ford going willingly. He stares up at Marc with wide eyes and it's enough to make Armie laugh, a hand going through his hair. Timmy's dad coos at him and Armie looks over his shoulder to see if Timmy was watching. "He's beautiful," Marc says.

"Thank you, I'm quite fond of him. I've never seen him do this before, though. This is new," he chuckles as Ford continues to stare, babbling some but quietly as if he was telling a story, his hands gripping Marc's shirt.

 

Timmy’s heart warms and he almost feels a little jealous. He stands up and walks over then. “Dad. It’s nice to see you again.” It’s a little awkward to hug with Ford still in his arms but they manage.

“Hops?” He turns and beckons her closer. “Say hi to my dad. Dad, this is Harper, his older daughter.” He doesn’t dare say what he’d been thinking for awhile now, to get used to it. Their daughter. He’s not sure if that’s allowed to yet. Especially with Harper listening. He exchanges a glance with Armie while she does a little curtsy and shakes his hand before running off again.

 

Marc smiles at Harper before turning to look at Nicole. "They're adorable, aren't they?" she says. He nods and shifts his eyes to his own son. He examines him for a moment, his hand rubbing circles on Ford's back as he continues to hold tight to him. Timmy looked peaceful— _happy._ He turns to look at Armie and sees the same expression in his eyes, watches carefully as they shyly glance at one another and then back at the children. A smile starts forming on Marc's face as he watches.

"I take it you made your choice," he says, meeting Armie's eyes steadily. Armie still isn't quite accustomed to being read like this so openly, but it's something he thinks—hopes—he can get used to. He nods. "And you're happy with it?"

"Very much," Armie says, swallowing hard and standing up a little straighter. He remembers when he asked Elizabeth's dad for his permission to marry her, how he'd looked through him. This felt different, yet the same. It was an appraisal of him and the love between Timmy and him, but there was no hesitation in the acceptance that was given almost before the words even left Armie's mouth. Marc smiles and places a hand on Armie's shoulder.

"I'm glad," he tells him with sincerity. He doesn't dare ask about a divorce—he isn't sure it's his place. He can only assume it was in the works if Armie was here with his children, looking as in love as he did.

 

It feels like his parents had just given Armie their approval and Timmy blushes bright red. He hadn’t expected that when they came here. He steps a little closer to Armie showing him he’s with him. His dad smiles at them and moves into the room sitting on one big arm chair with Ford who’s still fascinated by him. His mother throws another look at them before following him to coo at Ford. Timmy senses their small window of opportunity and reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Welcome to the family.” He hates he has to settle on a look instead of a kiss again.

 

Armie smiles and moves to rest against a wall, his head falling back against it as he pulls Timmy to his side by his hand. "I feel light," he says quietly, his thumb swiping over Timmy's before running over the expanse of his palm and pressing lightly to his wrist. He lets out a deep sigh and turns towards him for a fleeting moment, his forehead resting against Timmy's shoulder, his body still partially pressed to the wall to hide their hands. He withdraws and asks if he can get a drink of water, would they mind? Nicole smiles and suggests Timmy show him where the glasses are in the kitchen.

 

“Is it okay if we leave them-“ Timmy gestures. They both nod and Timmy catches her wink and feels himself blush at it. Of course they aren’t stupid. “Come on.” Timmy says to Armie and leads the way into the kitchen. “The remarkable thing about this kitchen is that it has a door.” He says and closes it with a smug little smile. They both laugh and Timmy starts running, flinging himself into Armie’s arms who spins them around before setting Timmy back on the ground. He doesn’t let go of him though but goes on his tiptoes to finally kiss him. Kissing him in the place in which he’d grown up is something different still. He’d always imagined bringing his significant other here with him one day and have them cherish and love it as much as Timmy did. He hadn’t been aware they’d also _fill_ it with love, new love.

 

Armie's hands drift up Timmy's back until he hits shoulder blades, his arms snaking out from the embrace so he can hold Timmy's face in his hands as he kisses him. He kisses him differently here, and Armie wants to decipher the particular tone of his kiss, the timbre in his sigh, the intensity of his touch. It's no more eager, yet somehow more enthused. Not quite desperate, but as if it meant something. Armie drapes his arms over Timmy's shoulders and smiles against his lips when Timmy leans further against him with the weight. "So I'm your boyfriend?" he breathes against him.

 

Timmy grins. “Fucking right you are. No getting out of it now.” He mumbles his arms wrapped tightly around Armie’s waist. He enjoys cursing and being handsy while the kids aren’t around. “You’re clearly not just my friend or bro.” He points out and thinks about other labels for Armie. “You know, if I’d start introducing you as my soulmate people would roll their eyes. You know what I mean when I say it and it’s nobody else’s business.” He points out and tilts his head back to press a kiss to his nose. “Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet’s boyfriend.” He says trying to get used to these words in that context.

 

Armie hums, pulling him closer. "I've never had a boyfriend," he whispers. "First and last, I guess." He presses his lips against Timmy's, pouring himself into it because he's not sure how else to make him understand that this term is kind of monumental for him. Two days, he'd only been here for less than two days and already it felt like this was his life now. They'd found a rhythm that he didn't want to end—he _loves_ this little life they have right now.

 

Timmy’s heart flutters. “You want that glass of water?” he teases and giggles. Their lips never part for long, enjoying every second of privacy they’ve got. “You have no idea how glad I am and how happy I am with you here.” He mumbles. “A week ago, I had to squelch all my hopes of ever having this. And here you are.” He peppers his face with kisses, nibs at his jawline. “I love you, Armie.” He mumbles and kisses him again.

 

Armie loops his arms around Timmy's waist and tries to memorize how Timmy tastes, feels, holds. They'd come a long way to get here—here in his home, here in his arms, here in this love. Back in Austin, before the storm, he didn't think they would ever have a strong enough relationship to hold each other like this. Like the world wouldn't turn if they weren't able to breathe each other's air. They'd fought for this, and they'd _keep_ fighting, because this is _family_ now.

 

They are only interrupted by a knock at the door. It’s irregular and impatient. Little fists, Timmy thinks and sighs pressing a last kiss to his lips. “Our presence as parents is demanded.” He points out and kisses him once more. “Alright before she kicks me out tonight,” he jokes and walks over, letting Harper into the room.

“Dad, can I also have something to drink?” She asks walking over to hug his leg.

 

Armie runs a hand through his hair while he steadies his breathing and nods, walking over the cabinets. Timmy helps him get some juice for Hops and they move to re-enter the living room, Armie's hand trailing down Timmy's back as they walk through the door. "Ah, there they are, Ford," Nicole says, bouncing the kid on her leg. As soon as he sees Armie, he cries out for him and gets off her lap to run over. Armie swoops him up into his arms and looks at Timmy's parents when Ford rests his head against his shoulder. "Oh, he's fine. I think just a little confused when everyone left." Armie nods at her words.

"Oh, got it. Yeah, he's great with new people but not if he's alone with them," he says. "Sorry about that, I didn't expect Harper to run off."

 

Timmy realises it would take time until they could leave the kids here for a whole afternoon. Not that it was a big problem but constantly only stealing moments here and there is exhausting. Harper grabs his hand and pulls him over to her backpack. “Here, Timmy. Look at them. I have to teach you all their names.” She says and different toys out. Timmy vaguely recognised them to be Moana related. He sits down on the carpet with her and tries to memorise what she’s telling him. Ford and Armie join them but Ford doesn’t trust to let go of Armie yet. Timmy smiles at them for a moment. “We won’t leave you.” He mumbles and strokes the back of the boy before turning back to Harper who is glaring at him. “Sorry. Could you repeat?” She rolls her eyes but starts again.

 

Armie let's Ford cling to him a little—he's usually ok with situations like this, but perhaps this has been too many new places for him in too short a time. It worries Armie a little to think he's disrupted his normal life; he decides to make an effort to make things more normal for the kids to help a potential transition go smoother.

 

“How long are you staying here, Armie?” Nicole asks. It’s easy to that both of them love what they have but with the kids involved it’s always more difficult. Surely they wanted to see their mother. Constantly dragging them back and forth between New York and LA can’t be the solution either. Nicole realises she may have to start getting used to the idea of her son moving away now that he’s found a family for himself. It came so suddenly. He’d still been a child just now and now he’s playing with a little child on their carpet that he probably accepts or will accept as his own soon enough.

 

"About two weeks," Armie says, sensing her thought processes. "I haven't really figured it all out yet," he confesses a bit quieter. "It's kind of new..." He isn't sure how much they assumed, but they're intelligent so he thinks they probably figure out some of it. At the very least, they know the separation is recent.

 

Timmy looks at him for a moment but his gaze wanders to the floor instead. He doesn’t want to think about their separation. He doesn’t want to think about losing him or the kids again. There’s dread settling into his gut and he pulls Harper on his lap to keep it at bay.

“I understand. You look good though, if I may say that. Happy. Relaxed.” She smiles at him eyes momentarily flicking to her son.

 

"More than the last time we saw you at least," Marc says with an easy smile. Armie chuckles a little and meets their gazes.

"Yeah, that was kind of..." he shakes his head when he remembers waking up with Timmy that day and facing his family, of kissing him in his bed until they were breathless to hold on to what they thought was a fleeting moment a little longer. "I want to thank you, both of you, for that day. I didn't anticipate that kindness and you didn't need to be so... I don't know. Just thank you, I really appreciate how you handled that and spoke to me." Ford gets up and walks over to the bag of toys they'd brought and grabs a wooden train, Armie following him.

 

Nicole remembers what Timmy had told her once about Armie’s parents. Of course he wouldn’t expect them to accept him with open arms. “No, no. You care about Timmy and we respect that. I understand it wasn’t easy. Still isn’t. But no one could condemn that happiness and love.” She points out.

“We don’t believe in judging someone. Timmy grew up like that and I hope your children learn something similar.” What he means of course is that he hopes that Timmy teaches their children that. “I hope it works out in the best way possible. We wish you the best.” Marc chimes in.

 

Armie nods and looks down at his kids. Here in the home where they taught Timmy these things, the love and acceptance is almost too much. He tries to accept it for himself, but he can't stop the thought from creeping up that he's undeserving—he is technically still married and still pulling Timmy into a mess he didn't deserve. They didn't seem to mind—the love is enough for them to look past his actions. "Excuse me," he mumbles, standing and walking towards the bathroom he saw earlier and shutting the door behind him.

 

Timmy catches the worried glance of his parents. “It’s not easy for him to—just accept it. He has trouble believing he deserves it,” Timmy points out.

Ford looks around confused and is shocked to discover his dad has disappeared again.

“Ford. Come here.” Timmy holds out his hand hoping he could distract him and give Armie a moment to process. The boy toddles over and hides his face under his arm.

Nicole shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. My son.” She says. “Marc, come on we have to take a picture.”

Timmy blushes. He loves his mother. “Mooom,” he complains.

“Ah don’t be so shy.” She shoots back and gets her phone out. It takes her longer than necessary to pull up the camera app and take a few photos of the bundle of limbs but she manages.

 

Armie takes a few deep breaths behind the closed door and leans against the cool wall. He knows he should get over this anxiety already, that it'll all disappear—and he wants it to, _so badly._ He hates this part of him that still worries about things like this.

When he knows he won't appear distressed, he goes back out only to find his kids climbing over Timmy and trying to tickle him while Nicole takes pictures with a beaming smile. He laughs a little and watches for a minute, feeling the worry dissipate as his heart lifts higher.

 

Timmy sinks on his back with a defeated sigh when he becomes aware of Armie in the doorway. “Armie help me. They have captured me and are holding me hostage. Free me!” he teases and acts as if he can’t get up. Harper is delighted to attack him and her hands do find some weak spots at his side. Timmy giggles breathlessly, tears of laughter starting to gather and fall.

 

He walks over and sinks to his knees, Harper looking back at him with bright, excited eyes. "Hops," he whispers, looking at Timmy with a smirk. "You have to tickle him here," he tells her, reaching out and pinning his arm to the ground and reaching for the space near his ribs. Timmy immediately tries to retreat with a gasp, and Harper is _thrilled._ Armie laughs a little breathlessly and stops tickling him, running a hand through Timmy's hair with a sigh caught somewhere in his lungs. Seeing how Harper is still trying to have the same effect with her little hands, he pulls her into his lap and tickles her sides instead until she's lost in a fit of giggles.

 

Timmy is still panting. “I can’t- believe- this level- of treason.” He says and reaches out to help tickle her. He sighs and sinks back to get enough air into his lungs again. “At least you are still on my side.” He says to Ford and holds him close to press a smooch to his forehead. The little boy laughs and kicks kneeing him in the stomach in the process. “Ughhh. Never mind.” He lets him go.

Harper is still laughing under Armie’s onslaught. “Timmy, help me!” She pleads.

He shakes his head. “Nope. No way. I don’t help traitors.”

 

Even if it isn't always like this, it's nice what they have in this moment. Armie slows in his teasing, his eyes glued to Timmy. He has the distinct feeling of floating on his back in the ocean when he meets his gaze and smiles. Harper tries to get out from under Armie's hands and runs over to Nicole and Marc for protection, though Armie really only knows this out of his peripheral vision. All he can think is _please god, let this go on forever_.

 

Timmy smiles. He hadn’t even touched Armie and it had been enough to let him forget everything else. They are torn out of their trance when Ford enthusiastically bites into Armie’s ankle. Timmy rolls his eyes and leans back again. They give Ford his wood train to play with and Harper engages Nicole in a her toys. Timmy uses the distraction to crawl over and put his head in Armie’s lap. “Okay?” He asks softly not sure if that’s one of the things they could do with the kids around.

 

Armie shifts and threads his fingers through Timmy's hair. "Okay," he says. It might not be smart, but Timmy had been touchy with him since the first time Harper met him, so he hopes this would be a natural progression of what she's seen. Holding hands and kissing still felt like too much, because she understands what that means. But this. She knows this means you want to be close to someone you're comfortable with, because she does it to her parents too. That feels safe. Armie's eyes travel away from him to watch her playing with Nicole, and smiles. Maybe one day they'd actually be their grandparents for real.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY GRAD SCHOOL IS ALREADY HURTING MY FIC GAME I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LATE UPDATE AGAIN - linds

Nobody is saying it but this is very much an introduction of grandparents and grandchildren. Timmy is more than satisfied with how it’s going up to now. He turns his face to Armie and inhales his scent, feeling absolutely safe in his embrace. His being narrows to the touch on his scalp and he sighs happily before turning his head to watch the children and his parents again. He dreams of a world where this is a regular weekend activity for them. Perhaps it would come true.

 

Armie glances down shyly when he sees Nicole pass her phone off to Marc, already sensing the focus for their next picture and blushing a little. He's used to his picture being taken but he has a feeling this wouldn't end up anywhere unless he posted it himself. No, this was just for them, to capture the moment they wanted to remember. Armie smiles a little, watching Timmy shift his focus from kid to kid.

 

Marc takes their picture with Armie’s hand tousled in Timmy’s hair and soft smiles on both of their faces. When he shows it to Timmy he wants it framed instantly. That’s when an idea begins to fester in his mind. He would give Armie something before he had to leave to sort out things. A collection of pictures of their happiness. He knows that there are two sides of the same coin. On one hand he hopes to cheer Armie up with them. On the other he’s of course reminding him quite violently of what he loses if he decides on a different path. “Send it to me, will you?” He requests of his dad.

 

"Of course," Marc tells him. There's something calming about the presence of them, even with the kids getting loud. He'd worried about his son a lot since Italy-- he'd watched the profound change occur and knew it had been something he struggled with off and on ever since. To see him finally settle in a way was comforting. Life as an actor was too in flux to also have to deal with so much emotional turmoil alone. And while he didn't really know Armie personally yet, he could see he struggled, too, and that this seemed to ease whatever hurt him. Armie looks up and meets his eyes, and Marc is sure he sees that same relieved appreciation as earlier. He nods and Armie smiles, turning his attention to his kids. Marc understands in some way. His own children were about the same age difference as Armie's and when they were Harper and Ford's ages, he would have sacrificed just about anything for their happiness. But there had to be a line; you can't make your children happy if you yourself aren't happy. He's glad Armie seems to have come to this conclusion himself.

 

Timmy’s mother comes back with old, unused colouring books that had once belonged to Timmy and before that to Pauline. The kids are instantly enamoured. Nothing gets them around quicker than presents with new toys. There’s a lot of old stuff from him that they hadn’t thrown away yet.

“Wanna see my old room?” He asks Armie. The kids probably couldn’t care less. It still looks like teen Timmy just moved out after all. “We’ll be right back,” he promises both kids. “Just ask them if you need something.” He points to his parents and Harper nods absentmindedly.

Timmy leads Armie to his room and opens the door. “That’s it. That’s where I grew up.” The walls are still full of posters of different well-known hip-hop faces and it screams all a little outsider and artist.

 

Armie walks around in a slow circle, eyeing the posters and forms on the walls. He looks at the books haphazardly stuck in the bookshelf and the papers with small doodles on the sides. There's something inexplicably warm and endearing about everything, like the second hour of a campfire when the logs start to settle and the sky grows darker so you can see the stars and feel small. He loves it.

Walking back towards him, Armie wraps his arms around him and kisses his cheek, then the other side, then his jaw. "Please tell me if I look hard enough I'll find pictures of you from high school somewhere," he says, pulling him closer. "Or younger, god do you have baby pictures? I bet you were fucking adorable."

 

Timmy laughs and shakes his head. “No way are you going to see these,” he makes clear. If Armie asks his mom he’s sure to get what he wants so Timmy doesn’t tell him about that. “I don’t get baby pictures of you either so it’s only fair,” he points out and leans closer to kiss Armie’s neck. That’s of course when his mother opens the door. They jump apart instantly. “Do you want pie and coffee? I’ve brought some.” She says. She has Ford on her arm and he burbles excitedly at seeing them.

Timmy nods. “Yeah that’d be nice mom. You can leave him here.” He points out and walks over taking him into his arms.

She leaves them alone then and Timmy wanders over taking a CD out of a shelf filled with them. “That was the first record I got.” He explains and puts the CD in the stereo. He remembers to this day how devastated Pauline had been that he’d managed to convince their mom to buy him a record with the parental advisory sticker. He’d been seven or eight and had listened to it for years. He turns the volume low so Ford doesn’t get irritated and whispers the line along. He still knows them by heart.

 

Armie lifts an eyebrow and glances down at Ford. "She'll kill me if he learns these fun new words," he says with a smirk. "I can't believe your mom bought this for you so young. I had to sneak music like this for years before I stopped caring if they found out." Every time Timmy raps it makes Armie warm, ever since the first time in Italy, even when he saw his videos for the first time. There's something sensual in the way he lets the words take him over and move him. Armie had never had a thing for that type of musicality until he met him, but the first time he heard him rap in person, he had been forced to accept that Timmy could very easily turn him on if he wanted. Not the easiest revelation for him in Italy, but one of the more interesting ones. He walks over now, trying to think of anything but his tongue peeking out from his lips in an easy smile. Playfully, he kisses Ford's neck to make him giggle, his little fingers forming a death grip in his hair as Armie’s hand slides down Timmy's back to grab his ass. "I love it when you rap, I really do," he says when he gets Ford to free him a second later. Then, meeting Timmy's eyes with his hand still firmly planted on Timmy, he adds, "But please don't tease me with it."

 

Timmy’s eyebrows probably raise to his hairline. “Please?” He asks and his eyes flicker to Armie’s arm. “And that in front of your son? I’m disappointed in you. And so is 50 Cent. It shall be considered art, that record, and my mom clearly saw it,” he points out smugly. He shifts Ford so he’s only sitting on one arm. He turns his attention back to the song. He’d educate both kids in hip hop. He’d already managed to teach Harper the peace sign once and she’d loved using it ever since. There’s a rebel inside of her, Timmy can feel it. Those pink dresses will suffocate her in short time and she’ll act up. Timmy is more than happy to show her a healthy way how.

 

Armie shakes his head, his hand slipping into Timmy's back pocket as he quietly raps, still smirking. He understood Timmy was playful, that he liked teasing and knew exactly what effect he had on people...so he must know what he's doing now with his swagger and emphasis on words. "You would know," Armie says, wishing like hell his son wasn't in the room. As is, he needs to tone it down and breathe or he'd start to get himself into a situation he didn't want Timmy's parents seeing, or his kids if he could help it. He takes his hand away from Timmy and runs it through his hair, pulling at the strands near the nape of his neck. Everything about this moment feels strange to him, like some sort of dream he hadn't anticipated.

 

Timmy bumps his hips against Armie's and smirks as he pulls away knowing Armie would try to follow him. They are saved from walking the line with Ford in Timmy's arms when Nicole calls for them. Timmy turns off the stereo and winks at Armie. "Bathroom is over there if you need some cold water," he says innocently and walks into the kitchen where Harper, his dad and his mom are already waiting. "I think he'll be with us in a short minute." He assures them and sits down with Ford on his lap. "You okay, Hops?" He asks and she nods. "We wait until dad is here before we start eating, okay?" He says when he sees her reach for her fork and she pouts.

 

Armie doesn't head for the bathroom; he doesn't move until he hears the distant echo of Timmy's voice. The bed calls to him and he walks over, sitting down with a hesitant smile as his hands splay out over the blankets. _Timmy's bed._ He lays down and stares up at the ceiling, then lets his eyes wander. So this is what he saw when he woke up every morning. It smells like him, but in a different way than his bed now smells like him. There's no cologne clinging to the sheets, but it's the same laundry detergent and same indescribably _Timmy_ smell he can't quite place, like evergreen soap and sweet mint toothpaste. He slows his breathing and tries to get over himself--he's not fifteen, he should be able to be around him in moments like that and appreciate his attraction without desperately wanting to act on it, barely holding his desire at bay simply because his child was in the room. It shouldn't be so difficult-- what they have is so much more than physical, and this thought alone helps him steady himself. It's not just the rapping he likes; it's the fact that Timmy rapped all his life because it was a release for him, something tying his childhood and teen years to the here and now, giving Armie a glimpse into his past. It's not just the way he moved, but the knowledge that he must have learned how to move by practicing in this bedroom, listening to albums on repeat when he didn't feel like going out. It's the spectrum of Timmy's life that draws Armie to him so powerfully. He wonders what it would be like to sleep with him in this tiny bed, all limbs tangled together with concert posters plastered around them. He smiles and sits up, walks over to his bookshelf and touches the spines of the books. There are more classics than he expects, though he shouldn't be surprised. _The Catcher in the Rye_ is haphazardly tossed on top of the neatly placed books, crammed in the space over them and the top of the case. It's well worn, and when he takes it out, passages are marked throughout. Of course, he thinks. Of course he would like this one. He puts it back and pulls out a comic book, smiling fondly at the pages of Spiderman wrinkled with use. He's nearly overcome with his love for Timmy, lost in the wish that he really had been there for his childhood, that they could have been boyhood friends and gotten through the shit together. He puts it back and sighs, wanders towards the door, turns the light off and leaves. When he sees everyone waiting for him, he feels a bit guilty. Though, admittedly, he can't bring himself to regret the extra time he took.

 

Timmy turns to look as he hears Armie enter. The giant only barely fit through the door and it makes Timmy smile. He’d never been small next to someone and he’d liked it from the first time Armie had wrapped him into his arms. There’s something soothing about being held by someone bigger than you. Armie sits down at the table with them his knees bumping into Timmy’s and he registers Harper enthusiastically digging into her pie. There’s some nostalgia in Armie’s gaze but it’s warm when he meets Timmy’s. He knows this is not something that will ever happen to him. They won’t sit with his parents like that. His childhood home had always been the Caymans, where he’d been happy, and Timmy knows he’d been disappointed to find it had changed so much during his visit last year. He’d love to show Harper and Ford what he’d seen back then but he’s also afraid to tear them from this modern world, remembers too vividly how out of touch he’d been when they’d moved to LA. Timmy mourns the opportunity to go to a place which held a younger version of Armie just like this apartment held one of him. There’s nothing to be done about that though. All he can do is offer him a new place and a new family that treats him better, and hopefully he’d accept that love and happiness as a part of himself as well.

 

They eat with comfortable chit chat, Timmy's parents asking them little questions here and there. When they ask if there's somewhere Harper is excited to see, she lights up and sits straighter. "The zoo!" she shouts, the sheer volume of the declaration making Armie blink a few times with a sort of stunned smile. "We're gonna see animals and Dad said they're in a park where you play!"

"The Central Park Zoo is what she's talking about," he offers. "Honey, you don't _play_ with the animals, they're just part of a huge park." He's sure it won't make sense until she sees it for herself but that's okay. He makes a mental note to start planning that outing. Under the table, he touches Timmy's knee to pull his attention. "We should go there soon," he says, squeezing his knee then withdrawing his hand.

"Soon! Can we go now?" Harper asks excitedly. Armie shakes his head and reaches out over Timmy to tickle her side.

"Silly goose, we can't go today. We'll go another day and spend all morning with the animals, how does that sound?" She seems to accept it and turns to Ford, whispering all the things they would see at the zoo. That would be the true first outing for them, Timmy's first experience at what the kids were like in normal settings. His apartment was some sort of portal where they were content and wrapped up in a clingy haze of happiness, but the more comfortable they got, the more normalcy they created for them, the more this would set in for Harper especially that this isn't a normal visit to a friend's house in the city.

 

Timmy knows they have to talk about this. There are no signed papers yet so a public confirmation of their relationship is probably not a good idea. They had to figure that out. He’s not too worried about the kids. They’d been fine up to now. He puts a bit of pie on his spoon and offers it to Ford. The little boy munches on the smashed apples and Timmy wipes his mouth. “That’s gonna be exciting, right Ford?” He asks and kisses his head.

 

Armie lets his arm fall over the back of Timmy's chair and he smiles at his son as he grabs Timmy's hand with an open mouth for more. He tries to enjoy these moments, knowing they'd pass sooner than he'd like. Ford would know more words soon, and while he wanted that to come quickly, he also wanted to freeze time when he's still this little. Harper is proof enough that time passes too fast with kids, and he wants this to last. He rubs Timmy's shoulder lightly before relaxing his arm back on the chair. Harper eyes the movement but doesn't say anything, this was still pretty normal behavior for Armie, so she doesn't think much of it. He wonders what would actually shock her, if he could hold Timmy's hand and she'd just look away like normal. He keeps waiting for the shoe to drop, and knows it'll happen at some point so he enjoys what he can while he can.

 

Timmy takes delight in treating Ford with pieces of pie while they sit together and eat. He enjoys the casual touches even if they are always accompanied by looks at Harper. The time passes with casual conversation as Harper returns to play and Ford grows more and more fuzzy. “I think it’s time to go.” He suggests. He’d handed him to Armie because the dad factor is just something he can’t pull off yet. “He won’t calm down.” Armie had checked his diapers already so it’s really just him being moody. “I’m sorry. It’s been wonderful.” That’s when his mom gives him a sign to follow her. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he promises Armie and squeezes his shoulder briefly before following her into his old room. She sits down on his bed and pats the space next to her. What is this all about? He grows more and more anxious as his brain comes up with horror scenarios, one worse than the other.

“Darling, you’ve grown so much. I remember when you were just a little boy but now--yeah, you’re a father now. I can see that.”

Oh no. He's getting the parent talk. The you’re-now-grown-up-and-responsible-for-someone-else’s-life-talk. Is he even ready for that talk yet?

 

"I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into with this," she says, running her hand over his hair. "Kids are a big deal, and I know you know that, but when you fell in love with him I don't think you anticipated all that would come with loving him. They look up to you already, anyone can see that. Are you really ready for all of this? Be honest, sweetheart. I know you love them, but how are you handling all of this change?" She wants him to be happy more than anything else, and can see that this family makes him happy...but it's still a lot for him to take on out of nowhere.

 

Timmy sighs. He knows she’s right but would appreciate it if she weren’t. He knows he has the best mother in the world especially compared to Dru. “It--yeah it came a bit quickly, I will admit that. We wanted to have some alone time. There are so many things we have to figure out and taking care of the kids on the side is just one problem.” He explains and sighs putting his head in his hands. “We bought beds for them but you know my flat. There’s nowhere we can go to breathe. Sure, the bathroom--“ he blushes a bit at the memories. “But the kids don’t know. Not really. We always have to be careful about what we say or do and it’s so fucking exhausting when I’ve held back for so long and I have him now, you know? But not really.” He rubs his eyes with his palms. He hadn’t even anticipated all of this piling up, hadn’t even really noticed but now that it was all flowing out there it felt good. “And that’s just that half. There’s this huge responsibility with the kids. I want to do it right, I want them to like me because when they find out they will probably hate me enough already. Maybe not Ford. He might not even remember it ever being different. But Harper is smart. She has asked questions and she’ll ask more of them. And- it’s all making me crazy. Worrying about a thousand things at the same time.” He confesses. When he pulls his hands back they’re wet and shaking.

 

"Oh, sweetheart," she sighs, pulling him into a hug. "I know it's difficult." Her arms are warm and comforting, her hands rubbing soothing circles on his back. "It's okay if you're not absolutely ready for all of this, he'll understand. Have you talked about your worries? I'm sure he's got some as well. This is a big step; he knows that more than anyone. He wouldn't bring you into their lives if he wasn't certain he wanted you to be a permanent part, though. That means something and he's probably just as nervous as you are." She places a kiss atop his head and rests her cheek on him. "You're so good with them, but you need time to adjust, too. It's only been two days, you're going to exhaust yourself if you keep this bottled up. This is your life, too, you know. If he loves you like I think he does, he'll meet you halfway, whatever that might mean for you two." When he told them Armie and the kids were coming, she'd immediately wondered how the adjustment would be, if he would be able to handle it. Hopefully, he could.

 

Timmy nods. “I’ll talk to him. When we go to the zoo we’ll be in public and there’s no way we won’t get recognised. We have to be sorted out until then. It’s just difficult. He’s so happy right now and I don’t want to pressure. It’s crazy enough he flew across the country right away for me.” He points out and leans into her touch. He’s so glad to have her. How does someone do without such support? “I’m proud that he trusts me with them this much. He pretended to be asleep so I would change Ford. I can only imagine how much trust that costs.” He tells her. “And his wife knew what she was doing when she sent them with him. We can’t just shuffle them off to a nanny though. In a city they don’t know and when they don’t even truly know why they’re here.”

 

"It does mean a lot for him to come all this way, but you don't have to pretend you're okay with everything just because he took that step. If you are, that's great, too. But don't be afraid to tell him if you need time, Timmy. If you need someone to look after them so the two of you can talk, let us know. If Armie is comfortable with it, I'm sure we could take them, or go to your apartment and watch them there for a while." If they couldn't have time to actually talk about what was going on with them, she's afraid it'll start falling apart. She'd watched her son fall apart because of this man before, she can't bring herself to think about what would happen if he lost him again.

 

Timmy nods. “Thank you. I don’t take this for granted. I really don’t,” he makes clear. He will talk with Armie but he’s pretty sure they should take the offer. “Thank you, mom. For everything. I’ll call when I know when and how.” He wraps his arms around her neck for a long moment.

They return to the living room then where Armie and the kids are waiting for Timmy. He receives a questioning look from him but just shakes his head. They’d talk later. “Time to go.” He declares and watches Hops running over to get dressed. He sighs and looks back to Armie. It really hoped his mother was right and Armie would understand.

 

The look in his eyes worries Armie but he decides to let it slide until they have a moment to talk, just them. He looks over to Nicole for some indication of what they discussed--she smiles warmly and wraps him up into a hug, impossible to read beyond her kindness. "Come back any time, Armie," she tells him with a hand on his cheek. "And you! My goodness, you can come play here whenever your daddy says it's okay," she tells Harper, leaning down and wrapping her up into a hug. Armie looks to Marc and extends a hand, though he's pulled into a hug that relaxes him immediately.

"Take care of him, will you?" he says quietly, his hands clapping Armie's back once before pulling back. He nods at the older man and swallows, feeling the responsibility of holding Timmy's heart in his hands with Marc's words. As they're leaving, Ford starts crying and won't stop. It's not his diaper or anything, so Armie thinks he might just be fussy. It does nothing to ease the look off Timmy's face he'd seen earlier, which worries him most of all. While they wait for their ride, Armie stands inside the building and rocks his son while humming in his ear, trying to calm him. It works for the most part, but Ford continues to whimper against Armie's shoulder. He's probably tired, he hopes. Or maybe he didn't want to leave. He can't be sure, but he doesn't move him for a second of the ride back to Timmy's apartment just to keep him from crying more.

 

Timmy’s heart is heavy. He loves them but there’s so much he can’t handle and they are definitely not helping anything right now. They are quiet during the ride but the kids aren’t of course. Timmy realises they can’t just go and talk when they’re at home either. They would have to wait until they’re in bed and even then they could only talked in hushed whispers in the bathroom. He presses his lips together, tries to put a neutral face on, tries to act like this isn’t bothering him. Because it is. He has to face the fact that it’s fucking suffocating him and it’s too early, it’s too quick and it’s entirely too much. When Harper throws a fuss while they’re getting out of the car he nearly yells at her and that scares him. Harper forgets her episode soon enough but Timmy immediately flees to the bathroom and tries not to cry. He doesn’t want it to be too much but it is. It is.

 

Armie sees it as soon as he excuses himself to the bathroom. He knows exactly what's happening and it makes him nauseous. Harper is hanging all over him, jealous of the attention Ford is getting, so he tells her to grab her coloring book and he'll sit with her. She kneels on the floor and tells him stories about her pictures while he sits on the couch holding Ford, his eyes glued to the bathroom door. He tries to think back to the way Nicole looked at him when they emerged from Timmy's room--had she looked upset? Bothered? She offered her home to them, she couldn't have been angry. What could they have possibly said to result in this? Or did it have nothing to do with the conversation and everything to do with Ford's meltdown? Ford's meltdown that he shouldn't have to deal with. Harper tells Armie to pay attention and he tries, but she touches Ford and he shouts at her and it's too much for even him. He nearly calls a cab right then to take them to a hotel--Timmy doesn't need this. Whatever he's going through, he doesn't need this on top of it, Armie thinks. _Whatever he's going through that_ I _can't do anything about because of their tantrums._ The more time that passes the more dread he feels, until finally he pulls out his phone and texts him: _I'm so sorry. Are you okay?_ He almost asks about a hotel, but he's not sure he wants to know the answer just yet.

 

Timmy hadn’t even noticed he’d brought his phone with him until it vibrates with Armie’s message. Fuck, of course he’d noticed. He rubs his eyes. ~~No it’s okay I’m just tired~~ He erases the words. Lying would only drive them deeper down this spiral. _We need to talk Armie._ He sends and stands up splashing cold water into his face. He walks out then hoping he doesn’t look as terrible as he feels. The kids are shouting (because of course they are) and Timmy closes his eyes tries not to mind it. He walks into the kitchen then as far away from the noise as possible and makes himself a coffee.

 

He looks like hell and Armie's stomach drops further as he watches him walk away without a glance. How did he fuck up and not even realize it? How could he possibly have fucked up this bad? For that look in his eyes? "Harper, be nice!" he tells her when she yells at Ford. "Leave him alone, play with your toys please. He's not feeling well." She quiets some and glares at him, though he's not sure why _she's_ in a mood now, too. He tries putting for in his crib but he yells as soon as he makes a move to let go, so he sighs and pulls him back into his arms. Standing in the middle of the space with his back to Timmy, he lets himself sink a little in the anxiety he knows is building with Timmy's silence. At least Ford is quiet when he's being held now, he thinks. Turning towards Timmy, Armie walks over and whispers tensely, "What's wrong?" He needs some sort of direction here, he's not sure what to do but he _hates_ how Timmy looks right now.

 

Timmy sighs. It’s obvious as fuck, he realises. Of course it is. He’d been shit at hiding his emotions. “Look, I-“ He rubs his eyes. “I just think-“ he realises too late what a stupid idea rubbing his eyes was. They grow moist in a second and he’s crying before he can stop it. “I’m sorry.” He presses out voice shaking. “I’m really sorry.” He repeats and _means_ it. For awhile it had been perfect but his nerves are wearing thin. He needs to be in his arms. Now. He rounds the counter with quick steps and falls into his embrace hiding his face in his shoulder. He doesn’t give a fuck whether Harper sees or what she thinks. He just needs this now. “It’s so much and I- I can’t-“ He sobs.

 

"Hey, it's okay. Shh, I got you," Armie says, pulling him tighter with his free arm. He rests his head against his and prays to God Ford doesn't start throwing a fit now. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it's a lot." He has to force himself not to get overwhelmed by the moment, too. Their emotions are running too high and the atmosphere in the apartment is tense and unforgiving in the ever-present current threat of a meltdown. "I can take them to a hotel, give you some time." He's terrified Timmy will shut him out, will decide this isn't what he wants after all. She must have asked him about it, he realizes. His mom must have asked if he was ready.

"Daddy?" Harper asks, her voice tentative and a little scared.

"Go back to your toys, honey. Timmy just needs a minute." He presses his lips against Timmy's curls and whispers, "Whatever you need, just tell me."

 

Timmy sniffles, tries to think and make the right decision. He shrugs. “I don’t know. I really don’t--I just want to be with you. For awhile. Sort things out. And really be with you. This holding back and hide and seek game is killing me. It’s like I still don’t really have you, you know?” He explains. He’s talking quietly so only Armie can hear. He’s embarrassed to have this meltdown in front of the kids but it can’t be helped. He hopes Harper doesn’t look too closely.

 

"I know," Armie tells him. "God, I know. I'm sorry." He doesn't know what to do. There isn't some clear answer here because at the end of the day, the kids are his responsibility and he can't just leave them to be with Timmy and soothe his heart. But if he doesn't do something soon, he'll push Timmy away and he can't live with that either. They need some middle ground he isn't sure even exists. "I don't want to lose you," he whispers, his words sounding far more desperate than he anticipates. Ford makes some noise and touches Timmy's head, grabbing his hair. "Ford, come on man. Please," Armie begs, lifting his hand to untangle his fingers. "I'm sorry," he sighs towards Timmy.

 

Timmy chuckles. “It’s okay.” He sniffles and wipes his eyes. “You won’t lose me but we need to figure this out. Mom offered... she offered to watch them. Here  since they know it and it’s safer and everything and we would get the opportunity to talk. I think we should do it.” He says and presses back into Armie’s side holding onto him tightly. He doesn’t want to lose him either, doesn’t want to believe he even can. They fought so hard for this. It can’t just be over. _It’s not._ He reminds himself. It’s not over. But even the thought scares him.

 

"Okay, yes of course. Whenever you want," he tells him, holding on to the sound of his laugh like a lifeline. He's not losing him, he tells himself over and over again. It's a ridiculous thought to begin with, he should know he wouldn't lose him at this point. But still. The fear is there like a fire burning bright behind his eyes. "It's a good idea." But until then...he can't let the kids sleep with them tonight. He needs him in his arms to remind them both that's where they belong.

 

“Is tomorrow too soon?” He asks and puts his head on his shoulder. Suddenly it can’t be soon enough. They need this alone time. To relax and talk with each other. Some things just have to be made clear. Is Armie absolutely sure he’s leaving her? When is he willing to make it clear to the kids? When will they make a public statement? How would living work out for them? Timmy remembers he’d spend the summer in the UK and he almost regrets taking the role. But how could he possibly have known this? Even a few weeks ago this was utopia. And that’s why it’s worth holding onto it with everything he has.

 

"We can do tomorrow," he tells him, nodding, his hand squeezing his shoulder.

"Dad, is he okay?" Harper asks in a loud whisper with her hands cupped around her lips, suddenly at his side with wide eyes.

Armie looks down and nods. "I think so, Hops," he tells her. "Hey kid, did you have fun today?" She nods and looks at Timmy, still not sure of Armie's words. "Would you want Timmy's mom to come play tomorrow, too? I bet she'll do a tea party with you if you want." Harper's eyes light up and she nods again, swaying from side to side. "Okay, we'll call her and ask," Armie says, turning back to Timmy. "Think she'll be okay with it?" he asks quietly.

 

Timmy nods. “I’ll call her.” He assures Armie. “I’m okay.” He tells Harper and smiles at her. “That means we can dance now!” She declares and starts jumping around the flat. “You have to put on music!” She shouts. Timmy looks up at Armie who looks desperate for her to stop. “If she says we dance, we dance. And if I remember well you owe me one.” He reminds Armie and takes his phone out, connects it to the stereo and looks for slow dancing songs. “May I have this dance?” he asks Armie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.... predictions? :)


	9. Chapter 9

Armie narrows his eyes but smiles a little. "Gimme your phone," he says, walking over to it and sifting through songs. Timmy makes a noise of protest but he tells him to wait as he puts on a fairly slow song that he knows Ford loves. Immediately, the little boy pulls his head off Armie's shoulder and looks around. Armie presses a kiss against his cheek and sits him down on the floor where he moves happily to the song, his tears dry on his face now. Harper helps him stand and tries to dance with him as Armie turns back to Timmy, shrugging. "He wasn't going to help me put him down otherwise," he says. His heart is racing in his chest but he tries to ignore it. Something tells him he  _ has _ to dance with Timmy now, like if he doesn't, their relationship will start crumbling at his feet. It feels fragile even though their feelings are strong, so he knows he has to make a move to show Timmy that life with him isn't all tantrums and tears. "I've never danced with a guy," he admits shyly, but pulls Timmy closer to him anyway. His eyes go to the kids and while Harper looks up, she's also giggling and trying to dance with her brother. His heart rate doesn't slow.

 

Timmy smiles. “It’s not so different. And it’s not like I’m going to kill you for stepping on my feet,” he points out. Armie automatically takes the leading position and Timmy figures that it’s the only thing about dancing that he knows. He doesn’t mind, lets himself be led through the motions. “See. Not so bad after all.” Timmy says. He tries something different then, pulling his arms back to wrap them around his neck instead. He chuckles when it knocks Armie out of the loop completely. “Sorry, sorry. We’ll do it like before.” He assumes his former position and leans his head on Armie’s shoulder. “Is this okay?” he asks.

 

"I don't know," Armie says, though he rests his head against Timmy's. He's tired of always fighting this, of pretending he didn't want to just hold him always. It had only been two days.  _ Two days. _ And already he's exhausted trying to keep his physical distance around the kids, especially knowing how much of a toll it took on Timmy today. He takes a hint from Timmy's boldness and wraps his arms around Timmy's back. It looks like a hug to Harper, and it sort of is except they're still swaying. 

"What are you doing?" Hops asks. Armie presses his chin against Timmy's shoulder briefly before turning a bit to look at her. 

"Dancing, is that allowed Miss  _ let's- have- a- dance- party? _ " he teases with a big smile. She giggles and skips over to them, wrapping an arm around his leg.

 

Timmy is happy she’s so accepting but he wishes they’d have this moment just for them. “What are you doing Hops?” He asks confused. “Don’t you want to dance some more?” He asks. 

She shrugs and pulls at Armie’s pant leg clearly jealous of the attention. “You never dance at my dance parties. Not even with mommy.” She points out and rolls her eyes. She runs off and twirls making her dress fly in the air. 

Timmy sighs but it’s fond. “Always so critical,” he points out quietly to Armie.

 

"She's not wrong," Armie shrugs. He pulls him back towards him a little, tightening his arms until they really are just hugging and Timmy's face is nuzzled in the crook of Armie's neck. He sighs and wonders if this too is okay, if Harper will let it slide. The song ends and another comes on, one much more upbeat. Harper spins back over to them and holds up a hand, jumping at his side until they part. He sighs and lowers a hand to let her grab onto so she can twirl in a circle and he laughs softly, Ford watching and clapping awkwardly at the side.

 

Timmy smiles and grabs Armie’s phone to call his mother so the music can keep playing. He watches them with a smile and lifts his hand to signal to Armie he’s with them. His mother is more than happy to come by tomorrow. His dad is already occupied but she’d handle it, she promises and offers their flat as a room where they could talk in peace. Armie had told him they’re easier in the mornings so he tells her to meet them at eight. 

He returns to them then. “Mom is coming at 8 tomorrow. She says she’ll try to keep them busy until 12 and sends her regards.” He explains to Armie. Finally they’d get some room to breathe. 4 hours isn’t a lot but it’s a start.

 

"Sounds good," he says in between twirling Harper around. After awhile of dancing, she falls onto the couch and pretends to be asleep, Armie laughing and following her. "You hungry?" She nods and scoots closer to lay on his lap, gripping his shirt. He looks to Timmy and suggests they make something, but when he tries to get up, Harper pulls on his shirt. "Hops, if you want food you have to let me go." 

"I wanna help!" she says, standing and putting her hands on his shoulders. 

"Okay, that's fine. Let's go into the kitchen," he tells her, trying to stand again. This time she lets him and hops down to follow him around. When he passes Timmy, he puts a hand on his shoulder. "Will you keep an eye on Ford? He seems fine now but..." he gestures, unsure of what to say. "Just in case?"

 

Timmy nods. He’d thought they’d cook together but it’s probably really better if someone actually pays attention. He lies down with him and starts playing with his wood trains as well. It’s actually pretty soothing.  _ This is the train into a perfect life. _ He thinks and lets it crash. Ford crawls on his back and pulls at his hair until he can see what Timmy is doing. He lets the train crash again and at least Ford takes great delight in it.

 

Harper helps Armie cook and it's nice, it feels normal and homey. He worries a little that she's starting to get clingy, but she also cooks with him a lot back in LA, so it's possible he's just paranoid. He makes some pasta, not feeling up to anything elaborate and knowing it's something everyone likes. "Hops, when Nicole gets here tomorrow--do you remember that Timmy's mom, Nicole, is going to come tomorrow?" She nods. "Well, when she gets here, she's going to watch you and Ford for a little while so Timmy and I can go run some errands." 

"Why?" she asks, staring at the pasta sauce. 

"Why is she coming? Or why am I going somewhere?"

"I want to go shopping," she tells him, looking up. He sighs and puts a hand on her back. 

"Hops, it's not fun shopping, you won't like it. It's very boring I promise. I'll bring you something back if you're good tomorrow though," he promises, thinking maybe flowers or something easily obtainable. She says nothing and looks back at the food. 

"Let me stir," she says, reaching for the spoon. 

"Hops? Do you understand?" She's quiet. "Nicole will watch you while we aren't home." 

"Okay," she says, drawing the word out into multiple syllables. He decides to drop it and cross the bridge tomorrow if she decides suddenly she doesn't like this plan. He still worries there's too much change happening right now for her, but he's not sure how to slow it, if it's even a good idea to slow it. When the food is done, he lets her help him set the table and call Timmy and Ford to the table.

 

Timmy rolls over carefully so Ford can slide down. He’d had lots of fun and Timmy picks him up without fuss and straps him into the high chair. He starts munching away on his food, more with hands than his spoon, but they are both happy he’s quiet and eating. Timmy doesn’t say anything. He watches the easy communication between father and daughter and tries not to be jealous. It’s ridiculous. But she has his attention and priority always and he understands that... they need to move. Somewhere with doors and walls and privacy. This is slowly killing him. He needs to get him at night at least.

 

When the kids are nearly finished, Armie glances over at Timmy and sees him staring. He smiles softly, noting the look in his eyes and trying to erase it. He reaches out under the table with his leg and hooks his ankle around Timmy's, trying to pull them a little closer. That same anxious, frustrated look he wore earlier before crying has returned (though not quite as intense) and Armie knows they need some time desperately. "I'm going to have to give Hops a bath tonight," he tells him. "And I think Ford might fall asleep early, he's been fussy all day." 

"No bath," Harper says defiantly. 

"Yes, bath," he smiles at her. "You can help if you want, or you can help put him to sleep, or you can just, I don't know. You don't have to help," Armie stumbles over his words, trying to get his point across.

 

Timmy shrugs. He doesn’t really care either way. He just wants it to be tomorrow. It’s not fair. Not for the kids or for Armie. This is not a game of him *or* the kids. He can have both. It’s not that. He wishes Nick was here to watch the kids. They adore him and he’d help them both, too. Give them a hit on the head if they’re being stupid. “I’m taking Ford. We can do them both at the same time.” He suggests. It would be cramped in the little bath but they might finish faster and have some alone time sooner. He just hopes Harper would get tired soon. She doesn’t look like it yet.

 

When they're all finished, Armie gets up to start running the bath water and Harper follows. He grabs some towels and grabs the kids shampoo and body wash, along with some special soft wash clothes Elizabeth had bought for them. He takes his shirt off when they're ready to give the kids baths, knowing all too well that if he doesn't he'll end up with completely soaked fabric clinging to him. Despite Harper's earlier objections, she doesn't put up any fight when it comes to actually taking her bath and for that, he's incredibly grateful. She's pretty easy, just a splasher, so it's not too difficult. Ford on the other hand requires more attention to make sure he doesn't topple over and get hurt.

 

Timmy tries not to be too distracted by a shirtless Armie. It’s hard. Especially once Harper had managed to splash water on his chest and drops of it are making their way down his abdomen and vanish into his trousers. Timmy realises he’d been staring after all and turns his attention to Ford. He undresses him and lifts him up to put into the water. He thrashing so hard that he doesn’t dare to put him down. “Uh Armie.” He says. “I think your magical dad skills are needed. Help me?” He asks.

 

Armie chuckles and takes him out of Timmy's arms, swapping places. "Hey buddy," he smiles at Ford, easing him into the water. He takes the washcloth and coats it in the organic soap for the kids and gently washes Ford while talking to him softly. He knows Timmy's watching but he doesn't mind, though there  _ is _ a slight blush that creeps up his cheeks the more time passes. He turns to Harper and asks her if she's done yet. He'd already helped her wash her hair and gave her her own washcloth to wash the rest of her body. She shrugs. "It's going to be bed time when we're done, remember? We'll help you put pjs on and then you have to brush your teeth, okay?"

 

Harper shakes her head and Timmy should’ve seen it coming, should’ve seen her raised arms but he’s too busy staring at Armie’s chest so he doesn’t and is drenched a second later. He snorts and looks down at himself. His t-shirt is wet, almost translucent and clinging to him. “Oh-“ He says and cuts the curse off at the last second. “Well.” He says and peels the shirt off putting it into the sink. “There’s that.”

 

"Sorry, I guess I should have warned you," Armie laughs, his eyes following Timmy. Harper laughs, too.  _ A lot. _ She's far too playful for the hour and Armie tries to find a way to help her calm down. He watches as Timmy sits back down and can't help himself--he reaches out and messes his hair up, the strands slightly damp now. "Hops, if you ask nicely Timmy might read you a story tonight for bedtime," he tells her, turning his attention back to the kids. Ford is shaking, so he finishes up with him quickly and turns to Timmy, trying not to stare. "Can you pass me a towel?" he asks quietly.

 

Timmy nods. He takes one from the rack and helps bundle the boy up. 

“Please, Timmy. Pretty please.” Harper begs, standing and holding onto the edge of the bathtub. 

He sighs. “Of course. But only if you behave. Are you done washing?” he asks her. 

She nods but he can see the slight blush. 

“Are you sure?” He asks and she giggles splashing in the water again. Timmy smiles and looks up at Armie.

 

Holding a bundled Ford against his chest, Armie chuckles at them. "Will you hold him?" he asks, extending Ford out into Timmy's arms. He grabs a towel and walks around Timmy to get more leverage for Harper and wraps her up, too, pulling her out of the water and drying her before tucking the towel around her to keep her warm while they get clothes, grabbing new shirts for the two of them along the way to redress. "Come on you scoundrel," he teases, tickling her side and picking her up with one arm to walk back out into the living space. "Do you mind?" he asks Timmy, gesturing to Ford. He doesn't want to push him to do anything tonight knowing how close he is to his limit. "I'll get him changed and everything if you want to carry him?"

 

“It’s fine.” Timmy assures him. He rubs Ford’s back to keep him warm. “We are good, right buddy?” He asks and the boy blubbers. “See? No reason to stress out. You take care of her.” He says and rocks Ford watching Armie’s sceptical look and then watching him get Harper ready for bed. They switch places then, Timmy reading to Harper and Armie getting Ford ready. “Sleep now.” Timmy says softly when Armie had put an already sleeping Ford into his crib. What would they do now? It’s way too early to sleep but they can’t stray from the flat or be loud. He looks over to Armie for an idea.

 

Armie can see the question in his eyes but he's not quite sure of the answer himself. He shrugs and nods towards the semi-secluded kitchen area and walks over, leaning against a counter. His body aches knowing Timmy struggled today--he isn't sure what to do about it, if he even can right now. They need to talk about it, but he also just really wants to hold him and reassure both of them that this is right. When Timmy follows him, he grabs the corner of his shirt and pulls him in, wrapping his arms tight around his back. "I love you," he whispers in his ear. "I'm sorry today was hard." Even he hears the sadness in his own voice, the quiet longing for this to be easier on him.

 

Timmy feels like a dick to have made him sound like this. Armie had a thousand problems right now. His petty feelings should take a backseat to the important stuff. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I wish this would be easy- but it’s not. I hate not being able to touch you most of the day.” He explains. It’s killing him. To know in theory he could but there are things why he shouldn’t and they are suffocating him. “I love you, too. And I want to be with you. Until the day I die,” he promises, melting into the embrace. It feels good to let go and let his weight be carried for a moment. He realises he hadn’t done the same. When Armie has been fighting in LA he’d told him not to talk to him to save himself. It feels so unfair now to even get to have this and make Armie struggle even more.

 

Armie's quiet for a moment, holding onto him and pressing his eyes closed. He wants to throw away all the rules he thinks are right just to keep him this close, to let his kids see love and love and love in their eyes and casual touch. It'll come, he knows this. He has to be patient, he's sure they can ease Harper into this without it being a big deal. Easing into it ripped them apart just as much, though; a taste of the life they'll live, not the whole thing. "I hate this, it's like we're still in limbo and I'm sorry, you deserve more than that," he tells him quietly. "I'm just scared, you know? Hops is getting clingy and it might not be anything but it also might be her realizing that you're not just my friend. I don't want them to resent you, I want them to  _ love _ you, I want them to make you stupid macaroni art and handmade cards for father's day and tackle you when you get home." His voice is shaking but he knows hiding any emotion from Timmy at this point only hurts their relationship more, so he embraces it.

 

Timmy hears the tears in his voice and thinks that this isn’t what he wants. He doesn’t want to add to the guilt Armie feels for trying to live his life. It’s not fair. None of this is. “I know. And I appreciate it. And I’m a dick for wanting more, fast. I know and I’m so sorry about it.” He whispers holding him a bit tighter hoping it would help. “If we would just have walls so I could have you now. I think that would help,” he explains.

 

"Yeah," Armie mumbles. "Walls would help." He lets his hand travel up Timmy's back to tangle in his hair and he sighs. "You're not a dick for wanting more. We fought for this, you're allowed to want more," he tells him. "I can try, you know? To give more around them." This isn't some one way street, and Armie knows it. Both of them have to be okay with where they are and what they're comfortable with or it'll shatter just like it did with Elizabeth. And he can't let this fall apart like it did with her. It just can't. He's pretty sure the kids are fast asleep, so he pulls back enough to press his lips against Timmy's briefly to reinforce his words and to soothe his own heart.

 

It’s just a quick peck on his lips but it makes Timmy feel better instantly. “You know them best. You know what’s too fast for them. I have to trust you with this and I  **want** to trust you with this.” He assures him. He pushes his head under Armie’s chin with a sigh. 

That’s just of course when they hear her. “Daddy! We forgot to call mommy!” Harper is standing there, hands on her hips and Timmy knows he shouldn’t be scared but he kind of is. She sees their position and the fact Armie had forgotten her mom- it won’t make things better. He pulls back anxious and nervous what would happen now. His hands go to his hair, then his neck as he bounces on his feet. 

“How could you forget to call mommy?!” She asks and glares at Armie.

 

_ Probably because I haven't heard from her at all today, _ he thinks, but he can't tell her this. "I'm so sorry, Hops. Let's do it now, I'll see if she's awake," he tells her, his face turning a light pink. His eyes dart to Timmy and he sees the anxiety bubbling out of him in nervous energy. He puts a hand on his forearm to try to settle him a little and gives him a small, apologetic smile. "Go to the couch, not Timmy's bed please," he says when he sees Harper walking away. "God, I'm sorry, it'll be quick," he tells Timmy in a hurried whisper as he starts pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking towards Harper. This is bad, this is  _ very _ bad. Harper could say anything, reveal anything. They'd been a little more casual with touch today and while it wasn't necessarily out of character for them, the touch held a hell of a lot more power now that there was understanding behind it. He calls Elizabeth and when she doesn't answer, he feels a whole different kind of panic. He calls again.  _ Please pick up, don't do this to her. _ She answers just when he thinks it's no use, her face lighting up the screen as he sits down next to Harper. 'Hey," he greets, Harper climbing onto his lap with a smile to see her. 

"Mommy!" 

"Shh, Hops. Don't wake up Ford," he says softly, kissing her cheek.

 

“Hey there. How are you my darling?” she asks and tries to not look as tired as she was. The thought of a pending divorce hadn’t left her alone so she’d talked to a lawyer today about what it exactly would mean to her. After all, it’s not only the house and kids and money. Her businesses are officially co-owned by them. It had drained her and she had tried to think about anything but them actually being happy and content where they are. “How are you? Did Pops take you to the zoo yet?” she asks, hoping against chances that he had hesitated to do so because it would probably mean Timothée tagging along aka a small public outing.

 

" _ No, _ " she says, giving a pointed look to Armie. He shakes his head a little and resists the urge to turn to see if Timmy had stayed where he left him or not. 

"We'll go to the zoo in a few days, Hops. We want nice weather in the morning." He knows Elizabeth would understand there was a lot more factoring into this than just weather, but he doesn't divulge any other information. 

"Can Nicole go?" Armie cringes before he can stop himself,  _ well fuck. _ Harper looks at him with big eyes and a hand in her hair, twirling some strands absentmindedly. 

"I don't know, she might be busy," he sighs, realizing there wasn't much they could talk about from their day today that wouldn't lead to Elizabeth finding out how serious this all is. Maybe it's best she understand, maybe he should stop worrying about what Harper might say.

 

Elizabeth tries to look patient and friendly when in reality her nerves are stretched thin. “Who’s Nicole, darling?” she asks Harper. She had dread in her gut, suspecting that she already knows who Nicole is. 

“Timmy’s mommy! Right Timmy?” She asks and looks somewhere off-screen. Elizabeth stares at Armie who blushes under her devastated gaze. His parents? They’d met his parents? My god, he wasn’t joking. He’s serious. He’s going to go through with it and leave her to see how to cope. She feels sick. She hasn’t eaten, thinking that she should work on her form a bit. It would feel good to be noticed by men again. But it’s only now that she tugs their ring off. Harper is still distracted but she makes sure Armie sees. It’s a bit difficult at first but it slides off eventually. She stares at it thinks about the good times they had had. Then she looks back at Armie.

 

Armie tries not to apologize or feel too guilty--she knew  _ exactly _ what she was doing when she made the choice to send the kids with him. She  _ knew _ he would start making a life with them, she  _ knew _ he wanted out. He meets her gaze steadily despite the blush on his cheeks. He will not back down, though he's suddenly reminded he still wears his own ring. He glances down at it and makes a note to take it off after Harper goes back to bed; there isn't much point in wearing it anymore, it's nothing more than a prop. He sits patiently while Harper tells Elizabeth a story and tells her they had pasta for dinner. He lets his eyes glaze over, already thinking of Timmy's arms again. It would be nice to sleep next to him without the kids for once, a thought that in itself makes him smile because suddenly he has the experience to even  _ want _ that. It's surreal. He turns to see Timmy still leaning against the counter, watching them from afar. He's beautiful, but he looks slightly pained.  _ This is too much, _ Armie thinks. He wonders why he doesn't retreat to the bathroom, but then feels immense guilt for the thought--this is  _ Timmy's _ space, he shouldn't have to run away to escape this. Armie looks down and turns back towards his phone. "Everything alright,  _ dear, _ " Elizabeth asks, a bite to her tone. 

"Absolutely," he says, clenching his jaw. "It's late, though. Harper, I think you should say goodnight." She doesn't seem too pleased with this direction but does anyway.

 

Timmy watches as he turns off the phone and presses a kiss to Harper’s head. She yawns and let herself be carried back to her bed. He hears Armie reminding her to really sleep now before returning to his side. “You okay?” He asks quietly and runs across his cheek in worry. “You seemed a bit spaced out there,” he points out. He worries, of course, every time Armie talks to her. He doesn’t know for how long. He doesn’t know how often Armie will have to reassure him before he lets himself believe it.

 

Armie nods and leans in towards him, his head hung low. His hands lift to Timmy's face and he knows it's reckless because Harper might not be asleep but he  _ needs _ him right now, in some small way, he needs him. He kisses him, pressing his lips against his until his tongue can taste Timmy's, his hands raking through his hair lightly. He pulls back and rests his head against the side of Timmy's face. "I'm so glad I found you," he breathes, wrapping his arms around him.

 

Timmy smiles, inhales him, gets lost in the moment. “I don’t know who found who here but we should thank Luca.” Saying it suddenly reminds him... “Have you told him? Armie, he’s going to kill us if he finds out that we told him last. Mussolini will come to kill us and what would happen to the children then?” He’s fishing for Armie’s laugh now but they should tell Luca and his partner. They’d be so mad if they’d get to know from the media first. And although Timmy had told his friends Armie and the kids were coming over they had yet to meet. And Timmy had to explain what actually happened.

 

Armie lets his hand trail down Timmy's cheek and neck to rest on his chest as he smiles sheepishly. "I told him I love you," he says, a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. God, they'd come so far. "After Austin I called him and told him everything. He doesn't know about this, though," he says, pulling lightly on Timmy's shirt for emphasis. He sobers a little, remembering that conversation and the time in LA without Timmy. "He told me you'd wait for me to do this right, I wanted to believe him so bad. God, he's always right isn't he?" He smiles and leans down to touch his forehead to Timmy's. "Maybe we call him tomorrow when we don't have the kids? That way we don't have to worry about being honest, you know he won't let us tip toe around anything," he laughs quietly, still trying to keep it down with the kids sleeping nearby.

 

Timmy chuckles quietly. “You’re probably right. It should work time zone wise as well,” he says. Austin had been crazy, and while Timmy mostly thinks of the moment the door had slammed shut, there had been good moments. Strolls through the park, nosebleeds, love confessions, the first time they brought each other off... it hadn’t all been bad. Just overall pretty disastrous. “I love you.” He mumbles and tucks some strands back. “I need you to meet the gang. Not too soon of course and better without the kids but they’ll want to see and approve. Will and Ansel and Stephane, too,” he points out quietly. Including Armie into his life, not just as a friend but as a partner for life feels so right.

 

"Okay, maybe when things are a little more settled we can grab drinks or something?" he suggests, smiling through the nerves he feels at the prospect of Timmy's friends meeting him in the context of a partner, not friend. Nick and Ash basically knew before Armie admitted it to himself that there was something more than a friendship there, so he never worried with them, not really. Timmy didn't have to do this sort of significant introduction in his life, he was already a part of his life. Meeting his friends would be another step, and he's excited, truly...but he's also a nervous. And that, he decides, is okay. "I've met Ansel but it'll be nice to meet the others and see him again," he tells Timmy, chasing the movement of his fingers with his own to smooth down Timmy's hair behind his ear.

 

Timmy smiles. “They’re nice. They’ll like you. Maybe a bit skeptical at first but they’ll come around. They care about me and sometimes a little too much. Just be yourself when the day comes.” He makes him promise. “And now? Cuddle up in bed?” he suggests. “I should probably get back to Brian about that script. You should probably check your emails, too before your agent fires you.” He points out and turns his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

 

Armie groans at the reminder of his responsibilities. "Lead the way," he says, kissing him back lightly. He walks over to his suitcase after Timmy, pulling out a pair of sweatpants. He changes into them quickly, and walks over to the bed, hesitating at the edge of it when he reaches down to pull back the blankets. His left hand catches a little light and he feels the world slow. Glancing up tentatively, he meets Timmy's confused eyes and lets out a low breath. He took it off all the time, it's not a big deal. Except this time it  _ means _ something to take it off, not just that he's working out or playing a role or forgot it. It means letting go, it's a  _ statement. _ He looks back down and touches the ring on his finger, remembering everything in some sort of fast-forwarded highlights real. He didn't need it anymore. He pulls it off and holds it in his palm for a moment before reaching behind him to place it on a small end table.

 

Timmy slips under the blanket, thinking this is it. He took it off, it’s gone now. If his conviction stays it would likely not return. He moves to Armie’s side even if he knows they should set to work but this is a moment. He buries his nose in his shoulder. “Okay?” he mumbles, knowing you can’t just throw a marriage away and he’d asked him to anyway. He’s not taking anything of this for granted. Armie had been wonderful and this is just a symbolic way in which he’s now more Timmy’s than Elizabeth’s again.

 

Armie lifts a hand to his neck and pulls him closer. "Me okay," he smiles, stealing Timmy's favorite go-to as he meets his lips in a kiss. He lingers a moment, breathing him in while contemplating what he'd just done. "Feels a little more real, now. Like I can actually be with you. She took hers off too, you know," he whispers, realizing Timmy might not have seen it. "I think she's finally starting to understand. That I want to be with you, and not just for two weeks." He shifts his weight around so he can wrap his arms around Timmy, his fingers trailing along his spine with a content, almost relieved smile.

 

Timmy closes his eyes and makes the sound closest to purring that he can manage. “That’s good. She’ll make it through. Land on her feet. You know how she is.” He mumbles and rests his head on Armie’s shoulder. “Maybe she can be happy and look back one day and respect your decision,” he points out knowing that while work was waiting for him this is pretty comfortable letting the fact sink in that everyone around them along with themselves got used to this new normal. This world of Armie and Timmy. Maybe he had taken the right train and arrived at the right station after all, he thinks, remembering playing with Ford earlier.

 

Armie lets his hands wander lightly over Timmy, finding his hand and pulling it up to his chest to hold over his heart. "I just want the kids to be okay, I think if she accepts this then they will be," he whispers. His eyes fall to Timmy's face and he smiles softly, his free hand delicate on his skin. "I'm figuring out what to tell Harper, I'm still not sure. I didn't think I'd be this nervous," he admits. "But she seems to be okay with this so far, so I'm hopeful. We'll have to talk about the zoo thing though, there's no way we're escaping that without a rumor or two and some pictures." Maybe it was best they get caught, maybe it would make things easier, he thinks. Then again, Timmy would be the homewrecker and he can't have that either.

 

Timmy hums. “Well, I think you taking a break is okay to be rumoured. I’m just a friend offering you shelter and support,” he suggests. “We wait for the papers to be signed and it all being safe before taking any real action, right?” He asks and imagines how long it will take... how hard it already seemed now to hold back. To wait for another 6 months to just take his hand would be tortuous. “What if we get caught though? Denying it seems stupid if we want to stay together in the long run. They’d find out anyway,” he points out. He’s afraid what it would do to their career but wants to believe that there are good people who don’t care about this stuff too much. Then again they have to. They have to sell a product in the end and that’s just easier if there’s not a gay guy attached to it. Especially if that guy broke up a marriage. Of course, he doesn’t identify as just “gay” but that’s what people would see. They’d see him in a relationship with a man and call him a twink or a fag. But he think he can handle it and Armie would learn to as well. But the children. What about them?

 

"Oh, god. I don't know," Armie sighs, slinging his arm over his eyes. "I don't know. I have to tell my family before we risk anything getting out there and I can't...I don't want to think about that conversation," he says. "You know, maybe I won't tell them. I'll just kiss you in Central Park or something and let them find out with everyone else." He sounds bitter and he knows it, but he can't help it. He's never had a scandal and this...this was going to be a huge scandal. The media supports them already, but it's all hypothetical and theoretical to them now. If they realized it wasn't all in their heads? If the media got their hands on the truth--he's not sure they'll still come up with catchy news titles to support the couple. They'd have to get ahead of this, not get caught. They'd have to make a statement, something about the split and amicably deciding to co-parent, something about them living their truth. He couldn't just let it happen, he needed control. "It's real now. Not that it wasn't before, but now... I can't not see you. So we'll have to figure something out. Maybe we can wait a little while since you'll be in London but... I don't know, Tim. I don't know. I can't imagine staying away from you for that long."

 

Timmy groans. “Oh yeah I will have to spend  _ forever _ over there. I don’t know who thought this would be a good idea. Actually it had seemed like a good opportunity and a chance to get my head free of you but now I don’t need to do that anymore and I  _ hate _ knowing I’ll have to get over there and leave you and the kids with the split alone.” He sighs dramatically. He’d still like to do the project... that’s not it. He just wishes it wouldn’t have to be now, right away. A year down the road to get this all sorted would’ve been nice. “I support you. I’ll go with you to Austin again and I’ll be the fiercest protective boyfriend the world has ever seen,” he declares, lifting his hand with an imaginary sword. He enjoys hearing Armie’s chuckle and feeling it through his whole body. “You know I wish so much that they would support you. But you know Luca will. He’s like a dad to you, isn’t he? He’s going to say that he knew this when he met us separately but he’s still going to be happy for us. Smug but happy. Our maestro.” He grins.

 

"Wait wait wait-- you wanted to leave because of  _ me _ ?" Armie tries to keep his voice neutral. He pulls him closer and buries his face in Timmy's hair, saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. At least it's a good project." He doesn't want to let him go, not now, not when the time comes for him to get on a plane. "I'm not telling them yet, I don't want...I can't think about it right now or it'll ruin my mood and I don't want them and their hate to pull me away from you right now." Timmy's right about Luca, though--he knows this much. He takes some comfort in that at least.

 

Timmy nods. “That’s okay. It’s only been two days. We have time left.” He assures him and cuddles closer to him when they hear a voice. When would it ever be easy with the kids around? 

“Daddy, I can’t sleep.” Timmy sighs and reluctantly pulls back, expecting Armie to want to have distance between them. He can already hear her little feet. She’s getting clingy, that’s what Armie had said and it’s hard to deny.

 

A deep sigh leaves Armie as Timmy withdraws and he turns to look at Harper. "Hops, you can't sleep here every night," he says, knowing if this became a pattern he'd never escape. She gives him big sad eyes though, and he knows it's only a matter of time before he caves. With one arm still under Timmy's neck and his body heat lingering all over Armie's chest, it's hard to remember he needs to put the kids first, though. He's frustrated, and he's frustrated for  _ being _ frustrated, because he shouldn't be--this is his  _ kid, _ he shouldn't be bothered. He just wants time, though, that's all he wants. He worries suddenly that she'll throw a fit tomorrow when he tries to leave, but he can't worry about it. He'd cross that bridge tomorrow. He turns towards Timmy and sighs while pulling his arm away from him and sitting up. "Come here," he tells Harper, picking her up. He holds her in his arms and kisses her cheek. "Why can't you sleep, Hops?" he asks, soothing her hair and stroking her back. She shrugs and he glances back at Timmy. "How about I let you fall asleep with me, but then I put you back in your own bed?" She clings tighter to him. "Okay, okay." He shakes his head helplessly at Timmy. "Harper, you can't sleep here every night. I can let you fall asleep but then you have to wake up in your bed, okay? I'll be here when you wake up and I won't let anything happen to you." He lays back down with her in his arms and kisses the top of her head.  _ Sorry _ he mouths at Timmy, smiling softly when he pulls the blanket back over them.

 

He reaches out and strokes Harper’s head hoping he can at least do that. So much for cuddling up, so much for getting at least a little bit of him. He’s not jealous. Hell he’d be terrified, too. She clings to Armie tightly. At least Ford doesn’t really understand what’s going on. He’s fine as long as routine stays somewhat the same, Timmy figures. “Should I sing something?” He asks Harper not sure if she wouldn’t rather forget he was here at all. She tells him no and he sighs, hand going to Armie’s arm and squeezing briefly. “I’m going to brush my teeth.” He says and slip away into the bathroom. He can’t always do that, it’s his flat and his boyfriend after all. But she doesn’t want him there, it’s clear and he has a hard time not taking it personal. It would only get worse. 

“Dad, why didn’t mommy come with us? She always does.” Harper asks quietly.

 

"Mommy didn't want to come," Armie whispers, his chest tightening. How much to reveal? How much can she handle? Would she hate him? He has to say  _ something, _ he can't keep retreating with this. He holds her tighter and kisses her gently. "Harper...I wanted to see Timmy. Mom told me to take you and Ford so you could spend some time with him, too." It's the truth, not all of it but some of it. 

"But why?" He asks himself when her  _ why _ phase will end; he's not sure it ever will. 

"Because I..." He takes a deep breath and lets it out. She could tell everyone, it could all blow up because she tells her preschool teacher. Is he really willing to risk that? Is his privacy more important than his daughter knowing? He looks towards the bathroom and wills Timmy to hurry; he's struggling to breathe right and misses his anchor. "Remember when you said Timmy makes me happy?" he asks, holding her close. She nods. "Well you were right. He makes me happy, and I wanted to be happy. So I came to see him." She contemplates his answer and stares at his side of the bed while he prays she drops it. He still hasn't talked to Elizabeth about what he is and isn't allowed to tell the kids, and he didn't need her holding a mistake over his head in custody battles.

 

Timmy had brushed his teeth hoping Harper has fallen asleep once he comes back. It’s okay, he tells himself. They would be okay. He slips out and walks back to their bed, slipping under the covers. Harper is clearly not asleep but she’s calm now and that’s something. He leaves a respectable distance between himself and Armie because that’s what he supposed to do. 

Harper turns to look at Timmy. “He makes me happy, too.” She says quietly. “But mommy also makes me happy.” She points out. 

Of course, she does. Timmy thinks. How do you explain to a three year-old that their mother abused their father emotionally? Most adults don’t understand the concept.

 

"That's good," Armie whispers, rubbing her back. He reaches out under the blankets with his other hand for Timmy, meeting his eyes when he feels his fingers weave through his. "Mommy wants you to be happy, too," he says, looking back at her. He's not sure what else to say. He wants to just say it, but he knows it'll have consequences. He can't even imagine what it would have been like if his parents split when he was this young. 

"I miss her," Harper says, resting her head on Armie's chest. He tightens his hand in Timmy's and swallows. 

"I know, honey. I know. She misses you, too."

"Don't you miss her?"  _ No _ . He sighs and looks at Timmy, searching him for some answer he knows isn't there. Does he lie? Does he tell her? 

"Not as much as I would miss you if I didn't get to take you with me," he finally settles on, kissing the top of her head. "Now go to sleep, Hops. We can talk tomorrow with Mom."  _ Please go to sleep, _ he begs. She starts to say something else and he presses a finger to her lips. "Harper, it's bed time. If you're going to fall asleep with me, you have to actually fall asleep with me." She pouts but closes her eyes.

 

Timmy squeezes his hand. It’s all the support he can offer right now. This is hard for Armie and he understands it. Doing the right thing, being true to his love to both Harper and him. He’s the adult and he should start being content with simply knowing Armie is there for him and loves him. 

“Sleep well,” he mumbles and scoots a tiny bit closer. Closing his eyes, he tries to sleep while thoughts are spinning in his head.

 

Armie can't be certain if Timmy's actually managed to fall asleep or not, but when he's confident Harper won't wake, he carefully withdraws his hand from Timmy and slips out of bed. Harper slips out of his arms and into her bed easily;  _ thank god, _ he thinks. He turns to look at their bed and sees Timmy still laying where he left him. Tiptoeing, he makes his way to the bathroom and quickly brushes his teeth before coming back out and getting into bed. The blankets are warm and Timmy's warmer, and he's fucking cold, unsure of whether it's his actual temperature or just the lack of him around him. He scoots closer and lays on his side, pulling Timmy against his chest until they're spooning and he can finally relax.

 

Timmy lets out a deep breath. Now, touching from head to toe, he starts feeling content. Armie’s warmth is all around him and he melts into it. The kids are both asleep now so he turns his head until he can catch Armie’s lips in a short kiss. “Night.” He whispers before settling in for good now. That’s it. That’s what’s his. That belongs just to him and that’s why he can start to relax and let Armie make rational decisions.

 

Armie's weight falls heavy into the bed for the first time since he's arrived. It's the first moment he truly feels he's settled into with Timmy, this singular embrace. Not even last night in the bathroom was like this--this is safety in a different way, comfort in a different way. With his arm draped over Timmy, he pulls him closer and breathes him in as his hand finds one of Timmy's to hold. He wants to ground himself in Timmy's existence and life until there isn't any hesitation in his affection, until Harper doesn't mind, until the world accepts it and he doesn't have to worry about anything except what to make for dinner and which script deserved more attention. He falls asleep like this, content and warm, his heart beating solidly against Timmy's back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god im sorry for the wait and also just sorry generally

Timmy feels better already when he wakes. The sun is creeping into their apartment but it’s mostly Armie pressed to him that makes him feel warm. There’s a little more content in him today especially with the knowledge they’d get to spend time together just for them. There’s movement on the bed and soon a body shyly presses into his chest. He blinks down at a mob of blonde hair. He smiles and lets her cuddle acting as if he didn’t notice. Their days could always start slow like this if you asked him.

 

Armie doesn't notice her at first, his lips finding the space on Timmy's neck typically hidden by his ever growing hair, his teeth gently dragging along the skin before he's even opened his eyes. He isn't even sure when he does it if Timmy's awake--he acts on first instinct upon waking and finding Timmy still pressed so close. When he tries to tighten his arms, he realizes. They're not alone. With a small groan, he hides his face in Timmy's neck. Of course she came back to bed with them. He remembers hearing somewhere that kids her age feel like their parents stop caring about them when there's a separation, like if the parents are separated the kids will be too. He tries to remember this and not get frustrated at her for wanting to be close all the time now. "You need walls," he grumbles in Timmy's ear, not even bothering with a  _ good morning. _

 

Timmy snickers. “I think she would’ve used the door.” He points out. “And good morning to you, too.” He’s pretty positive Harper hadn’t noticed the soft caress at his neck. He shakes a few curls out of his eyes and turns a little to look at Armie. He looks beautiful and Timmy wants nothing more than to kiss him. But he can’t. He knows that so he gives him a lopsided smile. “You love them.” He points out. “Don’t even try to pretend otherwise.”

 

"I also love doors," Armie smirks. He's right, though, of course he is. Armie would rather have her cling to them than push him away, that's for sure. It's hard to not get frustrated with their current status of keeping this a secret when so much of Timmy's skin is pressed against his though. He lays a careful kiss on Timmy's shoulder and sighs. "I feel like I'm back in Crema," he whispers. Except this time there's no pretense of their characters; the skin to skin contact is their own doing, the cuddles for their own comfort. "I never thought Crema would pale in comparison to reality, though," he adds, sinking back into the bed and trailing his hand up Timmy's side.

 

Timmy lets his eyes flutter shut in comfort. “I wouldn’t call it paling.” He mumbles. “It didn’t become dull to me just because it’s a reality now,” he points out. Crema had been wonderful but only the start of their story. It had taken him months to realise that his feelings for Armie wouldn’t go away. That what he felt for him was love. And now they’re here shirtless, embracing each other and the morning. There’s an idea that’s been bugging him. “Armie.” He mumbles. “Listen, I had this idea. But you know I can’t afford it. But…if the for of us got a suite for the time being that actually has walls... wouldn’t that solve our problems for the time we are here at least?” He hates having to say this because it put pressure on Armie to say yes and support him through this. He doesn’t want to take money from him but he just can’t afford any extra stays in big suites right now. But it’s an idea and it may relieve the strain that this open space had put on them.

 

Armie had been waiting for him to cave and ask. Elizabeth had assumed he'd gotten a hotel already, was surprised to find they weren't in one the other night. Surely she wouldn't put up a fuss. "It would, I'll make some calls," he says, nuzzling into Timmy's neck. Harper starts sitting up to listen in and he catches her eyes and smiles. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," he says, reaching out and tickling her side. She grabs his hand and hides under the blankets with a mumbled "morning." With her hiding, he presses his lips against Timmy's shoulder once more, lingering for a moment until he sees the bed covers shift as she emerges with a sleepy smile. 

"Pancakes?" she asks. Armie laughs and asks Timmy if it's alright with him, knowing the answer but wanting to ask anyway, anything to involve him at this point is something Armie wants to do.

 

Timmy notices how Armie is more open and reckless with his touches and while he’s thankful he’s scared of the moment she’ll see them kiss for the first time and have it settle in for real. “Thank God I need to gain weight for my next role. Actually I should start to hit the gym from time to time. They don’t want me all muscled up but some stamina and strength sure wouldn’t hurt” He sighs. It’s not one of his favourite activities. He’d take about any role that he felt challenged him though, mentally or physically. Ford starts screaming and Timmy suspects it’s a diaper kind of problem. It’s warm and comfy under the blankets and he doesn’t want to leave.

 

"I got him," Armie says, squeezing his hip under the blankets as he retreats. He doesn't want to move either, too comfortable wrapped around Timmy, but his first priority always is and always would be to the kids. He picks up Ford and kisses his cheek, talking in soothing tones to him as he gets the stuff to change him. Without a shirt for him to cling to, he grabs Armie's skin, pinching him. "Ah! Ford, come on little man," he chuckles, kissing his cheeks a few times and snuggling him closer as he sits down on the floor to change him. He doesn't stop crying, so Armie hums softly and smiles to help calm him, changing him quickly and putting him in a fresh onesie. When he toddles over to Armie and wraps his little arms around his neck, Armie lets him and wraps an arm around his body. "Hey Timmy--" he turns to see Harper and Timmy watching him and smiles. "Can you start the pancakes? I'll help but I think he's going to demand some attention," he says, patting his back for emphasis.

 

Timmy groans, more playful than serious. “Yeah alright.” He slips out from under the covers and shivers. He runs to his wardrobe first and grabs his sweater. Long and thick and smelling of Armie. Just perfect when you’re still warm from bed and everything’s too cold. He pads over into the kitchen and gets started on pancakes. Hopefully he’d be able to concentrate more this time. With a shirtless Armie somewhere behind him it’s not particularly likely though.

 

Armie rocks Ford and smiles when Harper runs into the kitchen to help Timmy. This would be their normal soon, he thinks. Everything about the transition seemed to be going alright, and even when Harper seemed hesitant or upset about Elizabeth not being there, she clung not only to Armie, but to Timmy as well. That had to be good, right? And Ford--he loved Timmy. He knows actually telling Harper what's going on will change things, but how she interacts with Timmy now gives him some comfort. 

She pulls a chair over (with Timmy's help) and stands on it to help stir batter. She hums happily with him, looking up every now and then with a goofy smile when he talks to her. Armie  _ melts. _ His daughter stands giggling and squealing when Timmy tries to get batter on her nose, Timmy pushing the sleeves of his sweater up his arms and shaking the hair out of his eyes. God, he loves them so much. The apartment is small but their love is so grand; he's not sure how it all fits inside. He rests his head against Ford, feeling his chest tightening. This is all he ever wanted, everything he didn't even know to ask for. It's everything.

 

Timmy turns, eyes glistening with mischief. He had wanted to call Armie over but then he sees the expression in his eyes. It’s full of love and makes his heart beat faster instantly. He reaches out with one hand and begs him closer. 

He remembers seeing a troubled expression on Armie’s face whenever he’d let his guard down. But these days he’s often happy and, while disbelieving, grateful. That’s a development Timmy is proud of. He fills a spoon with batter and offers it to Armie. When he leans in to take it he pulls it back and brings them closer together. “Mmh you have to put in some more effort for that.” He teases and shoves the spoon into his own mouth instead.

 

Armie chuckles, a little taken aback. "Tease," he shakes his head, shifting Ford so he can reach out and tickle Timmy. He smiles when he gets a gasp in return, clearly meeting his mark. If he could have every morning like this, he would. "Have you checked in with your mom yet? We should figure out when she's planning on getting here so I can at least put on some more suitable clothes," he smirks. His hand lingers on Timmy and toys with the material of his sweater. He'd had girlfriends and Elizabeth of course wear his clothes before, but he never understood why people liked it so much until Timmy. Seeing him in his space wearing Armie's clothes--he feels closer to him even when they're apart just knowing part of him is holding Timmy even if he can't be. He tousles Timmy's hair and withdraws his touch before he gets caught up.

 

“I can get in touch with her. You just need to take over for a moment.” He points out. He touches Armie’s side when they brush past each other and Timmy goes looking for his phone. 

He calls her quickly and tells her that they’d be done and ready in an hour. “Thank you. You’re the best. See you.” He ends the call and walks over where Armie has employed Harper to be his missing hand. 

“You okay here?” He asks curiously. He’d love to hug Armie from behind but he has to with tickling Harper. “She’ll be here in an hour.” Timmy informs Armie offhandedly.

 

"Sounds good," he says, turning over his shoulder to smile at him. Ford was doing a lot better--Armie thinks the normal routine probably soothes him a bit as well as being held. He knows he can't always do this, but it's hard to deny him right now, especially since Armie isn't exactly sure what will happen when he actually asks for a divorce and it goes through. He might not get all the time he wants with the kids, so he has to soak up what he can. 

A part of him wants nothing more than to pull Timmy closer and kiss him, just because, just because he's standing close and holding his world together with his smile, but he can't just yet. Maybe he'd call Elizabeth and talk to her about talking with Harper...the mere thought gives him anxiety and he shakes it from his mind. "Okay, I think these are done guys!" he says, flipping the last of the pancakes onto a stack next to Timmy's stove top.

 

Timmy reaches for it but Armie swats his fingers away. “Hey! That’s still my flat!” He complains and reaches for the last pancake again but yet again Armie swats his hand away. 

“We eat at the table, Timmy,” Harper explains and Timmy pouts. It’s true. He’s no bachelor anymore. The kids look up to them so he has a certain responsibility. He carries the plate over to the table. Quickly they get cutlery, plates and some stuff to put on the pancakes together and are able to start eating. Timmy puts a thick layer of Nutella on his pancake and then chops a banana. It takes him awhile to notice Armie staring. “What? That’s delicious.” He complains. He cuts off a piece and balances it on his fork. “Here. Try it.” It’s just the sort of domestic and couple behaviour that they are allowed to indulge in. “Good, isn’t it?” he asks, staring at Armie’s lips while he eats, thinking it’s a good excuse.

 

Armie hums, licking the nutella off his lips, partially because he knows Timmy's watching. "Pretty good," he admits. Harper giggles and asks for some, opening her mouth. Armie laughs and rolls his eyes; "They're never going to eat them normally now," he tells Timmy as he feeds her a bite and she does a little happy dance in her chair. He playfully kicks him under the table and smiles fondly at him, a little caught off guard at how he still takes his breath away just existing across from him like this.

 

Timmy grins. “Banana and cacao are fruits so it has to be pretty healthy.” He retorts and bites his tongue cheekily. Armie is warm and open across from him and they exist around the table like a family. It’s amazing. Breakfast is a pretty unspectacular affair aside from the fact that it’s still a miracle they get to do this at all. He shoos Armie away to put on some clothes while he gets rid of the mess in the kitchen. Armie also gets the kids dressed and before long the doorbell rings. “Mom, hey. It’s good to see you. You really didn’t have to do this,” he says as a way of greeting and kisses her check, wraps her in his arms.

 

Nicole looks at him and then at Armie while hiding a smile. "Yes, I did. But it's alright, I don't mind at all," she assures him, brushing a hand over his hair. 

"Nicole! Thanks for this," Armie says, walking over with Ford tucked against his chest again. "He's being snuggly today, he might cry when we leave," he says sheepishly, looking down at him gripping his shirt. "Come on buddy," he coos, kissing his cheek and pulling him away to give to Nicole to start getting him used to it before they leave. He cries but lets him move him, his head resting against her as tears fall down his cheeks, and his hand reaches out for Armie. Nicole rocks him and rubs circles on his back but Armie feels a little sick. They didn't use normal babysitters usually; Elizabeth's parents or Ashton or Nick usually watched them, so it was familiar and comforting. Armie puts his hand on Ford's head and tries not to take him back and stop the tears. 

"He'll be alright, Armie," Nicole says softly, seeing him struggle. "It's okay, you're allowed to go out." He nods and tries to remember it as Harper comes up and grabs his hand.

 

Timmy is suddenly feeling suddenly much less sure. Has he any right to do this? He watches Harper plead for her dad to stay and him crouching down to talk to her softly and explaining patiently that he won’t. Is it really that important to get them apart? It’s not a matter of life or death. 

He turns away knowing he’d cave if he watched them any longer. His mother seems to notice because she shoots him a soft smile. 

“Is dad still gone?” He asks trying to distract himself. 

She nods. “I told him the two of you get the flat till noon so he shouldn’t pop up as a surprise either. You still have the key, right?” 

Timmy feels it in his pocket and nods. “Thanks mom. Really.” He repeats and hugs her again. 

“Oh well. Since it looks like these two will be my grandchildren very soon I’d better get it right from the start.” She whispers to him. 

“You know. Not a word to Harper. We haven’t figured that out yet.” He makes her promise again before slipping into his shoes waiting for Armie to join him. Harper comes running to him now wrapping her arms around his leg. “I don’t want you to go!” she says. Timmy hadn’t expected he would need to deal with this as well, and also suspects it’s mostly because they know Armie would stay if he does. But he feels a little lost anyway. He copies Armie crouching down. “We’ll be back before you notice it. You have a tea party and play with my mom and soon we’ll be back. I promise it, Hops. It’s really better to stay here. We won’t go on any adventures without you.”

She sniffles but lets go of him.

 

When they leave, Armie has to pause in the hallways to catch his breath. He grabs Timmy's arm after the door closes and he pulls him close to him. Wrapping his arms around his back, he presses his lips against his neck and focuses on the way his heart beats against him. He needs him close, he can't quite explain why. It's comforting, though, as if he's capable of stealing away the sorrow and kiss it all better. "It's worth it, this is worth it, but god it hurts to see them like that," he mumbles, wanting to make sure Timmy understands his distress isn't because he doesn't want this. "They usually don't react when Elizabeth and I leave, not like that. It's just been awhile since they've cried when I walked away." He holds Timmy tighter, his hands in his sweater as he pulls back enough to kiss him.

 

Timmy relents, too distracted to care that they are still standing in the middle of the hallway. Armie’s lips are a little chapped but it feels good to be able to kiss him during the day. Because they wanted to, because it comforted him. He understands Armie’s distress and hates to have caused it. He wants to keep this but turn back at the same time. They can’t now. They’ve left and the kids need to understand that nothing bad would happen even if they leave for a short while. But they are eager, can’t even leave the hallway kissing each other without pause, eager to feel each other. 

They are abruptly ripped from their world of lips and sighs when someone clears their throat behind them. 

“Hey Timmy, nice to see you.” 

It’s Clara. His upstairs neighbour. They’d been flirting a little and apparently she’d had hopes. 

“Yeah, uhm. Hi.” He mumbles feeling his face heat up and touches his neck. 

“Don’t you want to introduce me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. 

_ No _ , he thinks, but it would be rude and not introducing them would only make her more suspicious. “Armie, this is Clara, my upstairs neighbour. Clara, this is Armie.” He avoids putting any kind of label on their relationship. 

“Didn’t know you were into older men, Tim.” She says and nods to Armie shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Well, anyway. See ya around,” she mumbles and walks down the stairs.

 

Armie stands stunned, his eyes stuck on the space she inhabited moments ago. The way she had eyed him told him everything he needed to know; she liked Timmy and probably thought it was mutual. Hell, it might have been, he thinks. He forces the thought out of his mind so he doesn't get lost in jealousy for moments he wasn't there for. His hand finds Timmy's and he looks down at their fingers to focus on the here-and-now. "I guess we should be more careful," he mutters with a small smile at their recklessness. He should have known the second he leaned in to kiss him it wouldn't just be a little peck. The illusion of privacy is simply too strong when in reality, anyone could walk past and see them, expose them.

 

Timmy nods. It was a close call and he’s glad it was Clara. A worse girl he would’ve feared to tweet about it in a second. He hopes she is as good as he thinks she is. “You’re probably right. Or rather we should go to a place where we don’t have to be so careful,” he suggests and squeezes his hand. “Come on.” Timmy pulls him along bounding down the stairs. He tries to keep the guilt at bay for both Clara and the kids. There’s a taxi already waiting for them and they jump in. Armie’s hand is instantly on his knee again. Timmy wonders if they would talk. The atmosphere is charged with want for skin and lips; that much is clear. He looks over at Armie, thinking they might not even need to talk right now. Wouldn’t probably be able to get it out of their system. He puts his hand on top of Armie’s and squeezes it, watching the apartment building which his parents live in come into view.

 

Armie gives the driver too much money in the hopes he might not talk about who was in the back of his cab, if he even recognized them. He purposefully keeps a solid foot of space between them while they walk into the building, heads down, lifting only to say hi to the doorman when he greets them. He knows there are a million conversations they should have and they most certainly should talk about their individual fears with this but the moment the elevator door closes, Armie struggles to keep his distance for even a second. It's as if every touch and lingering glance had piled up and the mere promise of privacy was enough to make the air heady around them.

 

There’s this overly calm elevator music inside and it nearly drives Timmy up the wall. They’re both looking straight ahead, overly aware of each other’s breathing and the space between them. Timmy tips his head back, watches the numbers grow until he can’t take it anymore and sneaks a look over at Armie. His gaze is instantly met and returned with similar fever. Timmy reaches into his pocket and takes the key out. When the doors slide open it’s a race to the door and due to the hurry he takes twice as long to fit the key inside and get the door open. Once they’re actually inside he kicks the door shut, throws the key into the bowl that’s standing ready there for exactly that reason. Then he’s up in Armie’s arms, arms wrapped around his neck trying to jump up and wrap his legs around his waist. It’s not overly successful though since his main focus is to bring their lips together.

 

Armie lifts him a little but has to stagger back towards the wall with the force of his body connecting to his. The kiss starts heated and it takes a moment for Armie to actually stop his hands from shaking against Timmy's back. He trails his lips down his jaw towards his throat and considers how bad it would be if he left a mark. People would talk, they always did. He knew enough about the perception from the last time Timmy showed up somewhere with a bruise to know he'd be the most suspected cause. He doesn't care. His hand tangles in Timmy's hair and he sucks on the space exposed by the sweater towards the bottom of his throat until one of them moans, Timmy probably, though it may also be Armie as he pulls him closer.

 

Timmy pulls at Armie’s shirt. “Off, off.” He demands and pulls back so Armie can yank it off while Timmy gets rid of his own t-shirt. They are on each other in a second again. Something falls down and breaks but they continue to stumble down the hallway to Timmy’s old room. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” He pleads. They are both starving for each other and they shouldn’t have considered a different outcome for a second.

 

Every sound Timmy makes is reinforcement that they need their own apartment with thick walls; Armie didn't realize how bad he wanted sound until it consumes him and moves him. His lungs fill and expel in short gasps as they find their way to his room with hands exploring bodies instead of walls for balance. He nearly trips, his body pressing Timmy's to his posters with his hips as he grabs his hair. He'd worried about this, if it would feel different, weird, unnatural even. Instead, all he feels is hot and it's not easy to stabilize his breathing but he doesn't want to because it makes him feel more alive than just about anything. He lets his mind wander gets lost in how much he loves him, lets his body do and take what it wants.

 

It’s a little like the scenes they shot that ended up being the dream sequence in the bedroom scene in Bergamo. Except that it’s now reality. They are both gasping and grasping impatiently pushing at each other. Nothing of this feels too soon or too weird. It’s just perfect. Everything led them here and yet it’s overwhelming that it did. All the chances turned against them and they are here now, in Timmy’s old bedroom making out like they are going to die any second now. It’s even bigger than this he realises when Armie kisses his neck and his gaze falls on a poster of Kid Cudi. Some days they were the only thing comforting him. He’d struggled so much, never fitting in with people his age. He’d been afraid he would always have to be alone. Never able to connect with someone that would want him. But he connected with Armie in an electrifying, breathtaking way. In a way that led to hour long conversations that neither of them got tired of. His hand fists in Armie’s hair and he pulls him up, pressing their lips together eagerly and pushing him towards his bed. The way they had connected had grown into more. A desire. A crush. Something that would last while they worked together in Crema and he hated to have it end. But after that. It didn’t go away. Timmy remembers days in which he was supposed to attend classes but could only think about Crema. He wishes he would dream about it so he could sleep all day. But everything is just grey. One day fades into the other and the dark days of fall didn’t do much to help. Not even music helped him and one day he had jumped over his shadow and called Armie. Asked for advice on how he’s adjusting to his old life again. It turned out he’d been missing it all, too, and even if he doesn’t say how much, Timmy knows that it’s more than he immediately lets on. Armie had explained that they shouldn’t have to stop talking. That their friendship would help them. And he was right. But it also made everything worse. Timmy fell in love. Hopelessly or so he’d thought. But then the end of the ride approached and he’d just spilled his secret to Armie. Ever since they’ve been spiralling to this exact moment. Timmy pulls back, cups Armie’s face. “I’m so in love with you.” He whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ENDING IS OUR EDITOR'S FAULT   
> -L


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally a reason for the rating. enjoy over SIX THOUSAND WORDS today folks

Something caught between a sigh and a laugh breaks from Armie's lips as Timmy's words cut through desire and settle deep in his bones, his blood, his very being. If he has a soul, it's Timmy's. It's all his. Everything. He leans into the touch; the softness and ease with which Timmy touches him always shatters him. Back in Italy, before he realized how much Timmy would mean to him, his touch had felt oddly comforting, like a whisper or the wind wrapping around him. Now, it's warm and lovely and careful but strong, grounding. Protective and sure.  _ In love. _ The two words never meant so much. His arms loop low around Timmy's waist and he sighs. How is he supposed to properly convey how he feels with words? Could he even with touch? How do you tell someone their very soul is your soul, their heart yours, the air they breath no more in their lungs as it is yours? He kisses him softly and lets his nose skim down until he rests on his shoulder. "I'm in love with you, so fucking in love, you have no idea."

 

Timmy chuckles, relieved, and squeezes him. “I think I do. I hope I do.” The stretch of Armie’s neck is just too inviting and he leaves feather light kisses on it. “You’re my everything.” He mumbles and turns his head to kiss him softly. He hits the edge of the bed then and slowly pulls Armie down on top of him. This is it. This is them united in love like never before. There are so many firsts they’ve had in the past days but this feels magnificent still. There’s no getting used to this. He’s heart feels hot inside his chest and is beating too fast. Armie is beautiful and kind and loving above him and Timmy pulls him down for another kiss.

 

Armie lets him and rests against him heavily with the weight of nearly two years pressing him down. "Tim," he whispers at his throat, voice raw and desperate in too emotional, like sandpaper rubbing against marble. It hits him where they are, this bed he hid in, this room he kept as an oasis. He's in Timmy's space more than he's ever been, with Timmy beneath him, around him, all over him. His legs buzz with energy, nerves like a livewire running through him. He feels every inch of him against him and every inch that isn't like a heady dream.

 

“Armie,” he mumbles. They can’t stop looking, just holding each other. Timmy wonders if this is the same Armie he saw in Crema. Probably not. Everything had been different then. Now they’re a couple. He could call him his boyfriend. He takes a deep breath and Armie’s scent is all around him. His aftershave, a slight tingle of sweat. Want curls anew in his stomach. He leans up brushing his lips against his cheek.  “Please,” he whispers, his mouth close to Armie’s ear.

 

Armie grinds, grinds until he's moaning and can't breathe, until his arms are weightless and shaking and he's muttering Timmy's name semi-incoherently. When he can't stand it anymore, he reaches between them and fumbles with buttons, zippers, fabric, too much fabric. "Help," he mutters, laughing a little at his own eagerness, his own shaking fingers. Sucking on Timmy's neck, he tries to stop pressing their hips together long enough to actually be able to remove clothes. He wants it all out there, his walls and layers to be gone.

 

Timmy has to chuckle as well, his own eagerness not any better than Armie’s. They yank and pull and it takes forever but eventually they kick their trousers off the bed and find each other’s body again. Timmy moans loudly when Armie lowers himself on top of him. Another layer gone. There’s only one left now and he wishes they’d gotten rid of it right away as well. “Armie. Come on. Now,” he pleads. The boxers go easier and Timmy surges forward to meet his lips. Armie is naked and bare in front of him and Timmy is so in return. Everything they’ve got. “Can I touch you?” He is suddenly afraid to cross the line unasked.

"Please," Armie says, too loud, too vulnerable. He can't stop pressing forward and forward and he's lost in the feel of skin on skin. In Crema, he'd been so careful to not show how affected he'd been in the scenes sans clothes, but he'd wanted this even then if he's being honest. He loses the ability to form proper sentences despite his mind racing, fingers pressing hard into skin, sweat already forming in the space between his shoulder blades.

 

Timmy’s heart is racing in his chest. The room is hotter than it usually is especially since he’s naked. But he feels a thin layer of sweat already covering his body. He reaches down and carefully wraps his hand around Armie’s cock. It reminds him of Austin. Their moment of happiness. The first time they’d done this. They are both panting already and while Timmy almost lazily strokes him they continue to kiss, slow and with tongues everywhere. This is not the goal of their relationship, it’s not remotely everything that makes it such a great experience. But it’s a part of it. While their minds work together and their hearts beat together this is the coming together of their bodies in the most physical way. “I want you.” There’s no way this encounter could end any differently and they both know this. “There’s lube and condoms in the nightstand,” he whispers.

 

Armie moans, presses against him harder as he nods against his neck. Calling on some sort of willpower, he forces his body off his to reach for them. "How long have they been in the nightstand, Tim? Tell me it's not your high school stash," he teases, glancing back with a smirk, his eyes wandering.  _ Focus. _ By the time he settles back on the bed he's shaking, with nerves or adrenaline he's not sure, perhaps both, probably both. He remembers talking to Luca about this once, the mechanics, how it felt, the peculiarities of everything. It was before he really signed on, his inquiry starting with a hesitant and embarrassed question about the phrase for which the book is named. It escalated into a conversation more educational than anything, something he never anticipated really needing, but was thankful for now. Luca would smirk knowingly now, he's sure. He probably knew back then when Armie kept asking questions. God, how had it taken him this long to realize he'd wanted this for himself? How did everyone not know? "Do you want me to--you know--before I..." he motions with his hand a little uncertain of himself. He's breathless and shaking and the curl of Timmy's hair isn't helping, neither is the pink spreading over his body, the freckles more prominent against flushed skin something he hadn't anticipated.

 

Timmy looks up at him and sees him shaking and flushed and remembers suddenly that it is Armie’s first time with a man. Despite his sure actions before that’s completely new territory for him and while Timmy is sure Armie knows the theoretic motions of this he has never performed them himself. “I can help you.” He assures him. He takes the lube out of Armie’s hands and sees his face, knows what he’s thinking. “I’ll tell you when it hurts. I promise I’ll make you stop.” He leans up and presses a soft kiss to his mouth before turning on his side and squeezing some lube on his fingers. He’s so hard it makes thinking and patience very hard. But he knows it matters to Armie now. To go slow and make sure no one gets hurt. He teases himself slightly for a moment before pushing in. He knows Armie is watching and is just as embarrassed about that as Armie is. This is new for them both but he trusts them to get used to it. After he has stretched himself a little he pulls out and looks at Armie. “Do you want to try?” He asks.

 

Armie's already panting, his dick harder than it's been in a long time, especially with Timmy's touch being revoked. He nods, leaning back to sit on his heels, his hands slipping up Timmy's thighs. He's not sure he'd do this with anyone else, if he could ever imagine it with someone else. All he sees is him, all he  _ wants, _ is him. He catches his breath as best he can, his eyes hazy when he meets Timmy's, his thumbs pressing too tight into skin. He swallows hard and moves closer, his hands chasing Timmy's, his mind going into overtime to focus on Timmy and not his own slight embarrassment. He wants this, Timmy wants this--it's okay to be vulnerable, he reminds himself. He knows he's blushing, shocking himself a little at the sheer ability to blush; he would have thought the blood in his body had been completely and entirely diverted. When he pushes a finger into Timmy, he apologizes, and then shakes his head when he realizes how stupid it is to say sorry. It feels different and he's not sure if he's hit his mark until Timmy gasps, and  _ god _ does he want him to gasp again and again.

 

Timmy hadn’t thought Armie would find his spot that quickly but he had beginner’s luck on his side. “God, Armie, do that again,” he demands and fists his hand into the blanket closing his eyes to concentrate on the sensation. Armie is in him and it feels so good when he touches his sensitive prostate but Timmy has to remind himself not to come. He moans and arches his back the next time Armie thrusts in and reaches his prostate. “More lube and then more fingers,” Timmy has the mind to say. He wouldn’t last forever and he wants him in him. There’s no way he’s going to come otherwise.

 

Armie's entranced and the temptation to get them both off right now is nearly too much, but damn it, he's enjoying the show too much to stop now. He nods, tries not to let his eyes glaze too much, does as he's told. He's so in love with him; seeing him like this is everything. The trust, the almost confessional way he offers his body: it's intoxicating and lovely and Armie wants to curl himself into the sound he makes and reside within the tremble of his lip until he dies. "Timmy, I--I'm so sorry, I should have done this a year ago,  _ fuck, _ " he mutters, leaning down and kissing his shoulder, trailing his lips over his body until he can connect lips to lips, swallowing his gasps. He's impressed with his own ability not to grind until he cums, but he's losing focus; he didn't think he'd enjoy fingering him this much. "Timmy," he whines, pressing his forehead against him.

 

Armie’s open vulnerability makes this a whole different experience. He’s naked in every sense. There’s nothing between them that he hides and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Yes, yes. Exactly.” He cups Armie’s faces, traces his features. “It’s okay. I’m fine. You can-“ Timmy gives a vague nod. “Please. We’ve both waited so long for this.” This would seal them together forever. Somehow Timmy knows. This would not feel like any unspecial sex because nothing with Armie had ever felt not special. When Armie pulls his fingers out Timmy rolls on his back and lifts his legs while he waits for Armie to pull a condom on.  He sees the hesitation in Armie’s eyes, he sees it all. “I love you and I want this. I will tell you to stop if you hurt me.” he promises him, not sure if he’s only talking about this anymore or their relationship in general.

 

Armie grabs the condom, his mind hazy as he gets ready. "Tell me if it's wrong," he mutters, hesitating a moment, his hand reaching for Timmy, stroking him once and moaning. He grips his hips and closes his eyes briefly, the tension too much and not enough. When he opens his eyes and starts entering him, he has to brace himself with an arm, his fingers gripping sheets as his eyes lock with Timmy's. "Are you okay? This is okay? God, I love you." He's breathless and overeager but he finds this isn't  _ completely _ foreign, and his body is far more inept at this than his mind, so he's able to control himself from surging forward or cumming on the spot, though he thinks he probably could if he really wanted. He shifts his hips and gasps when Timmy grabs his arm. It's like breathing on a mountain top where the air is too thin to be effective in the way you need. He's on a mountain with him, staring at their lives beneath them, his free hand wandering Timmy's stomach like plains to explore.

 

Timmy closes his eyes for a moment. Overwhelmed. There’s no other word to describe it. Sure it does hurt but it’s more the realisation that it’s really happening and happening now. Armie is in him, around him, everywhere. In his past, in his presence, in their future. He needs to see him so he opens his eyes but his visions stays blurry. It’s only after a moment he realises that his cheeks are wet and warm because he’s crying. “Shit, Sorry. Sorry.”

 

"Oh God, are you okay?" Timmy nods, and Armie sees as much as feels the emotion burning bright in Timmy. Armie leans down, his eyes fluttering at the sensation as he rocks forward. He understands they aren't tears from pain, but tears are tears and he wants to soothe the skin they cover until there's nothing but love. Wiping Timmy's face with the pads of his fingers, he presses his lips to his shoulder, his jaw, his cheeks, his lips. "I  _ love _ you," Armie says again, moving slowly, his voice quiet and tender and breathless, the syllables scattering over their skin like promises. He presses his forehead against Timmy's and holds his face with one hand, his thumb tracing over his cheekbone.

 

Timmy lets out little gasps whenever Armie moves. He feels it all. The words, the skin, Armie’s breath on his face. “I love you, too. I love you.” He sniffles. “Sorry.” He reaches up to wipe his tears but Armie quicker. Timmy smiles and leans into the kiss. “I want to be with you. Forever.” Timmy mumbles and takes one of Armie’s hands in his. He’s not asking for a marriage. That’s not even something he’s distantly thinking about. Legal unions didn’t matter much right now when they fought so hard to even have this. “Love me, Armie. Move.” He instructs quietly his cock hard and throbbing with want.

 

With that, Armie rocks, moans, moves with more purpose, has to bite Timmy's shoulder before he realizes he doesn't have to be quiet, not here. The angle is new for him but the feeling is everything; he tests his position, shifts, listens for signs of where Timmy wants him. He's gasping for breath, a hand tracing lines down Timmy's chest and back up to his shoulder, his neck, his face, each finger pressing against the lines of his ribs and any freckles he finds to map the body beneath him to find in the darkness of his mind.

 

Timmy gasps and arches beneath him. It’s surreal, the coming together of their bodies. He’s hot and arousal rushes through his whole body with every thrust. “Yes. Armie, please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for if he’s honest. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He mumbles his nails scratching over his back as he tries to pull him down for a kiss. It’s more of a panting into mouths but that’s amazing, too.

 

Timmy's affirmations make it difficult for Armie to stabilize himself, his movements more hurried, his breathing trembling more than anything. The press of Timmy against him as he arches drives logic from him momentarily and he knew somehow that it would be incredible but every thrust is fueled with so much more than desire and it's overwhelming, consuming, intoxicating--he never wants it to end and yet is desperate for release. His bed shakes almost as much as Armie's breathing and something about this being the bed he spent countless nights in during his distressed youth makes it hard not to get carried away. Timmy had called him his soulmate on more than one occasion; had he laid on his back in this bed and thought of him when he was younger, never knowing, wishing he'd find him? Armie hides his face in the crook of Timmy's neck to bury the sudden emotion coursing through him in the safety of his love.

 

Timmy feels fresh tears blur his vision and buries his face in his neck. He’s here and he wishes he could go back in time and tell his younger self it’s going to get better. That he won’t die lonely, that this one person exists and will do everything to be with him in turn. He’ll hold him in his arms and kiss him and love him. He presses Armie as close to him as possible like he’s trying to fuse their bodies together. He had always liked the Greek myth that humans were born in pairs once and forced apart and spend their lives looking for their other half. Timmy had found him.

 

The closeness of their bodies makes Armie insane, and the combination of stimulation and emotion is nearly too much to handle. He'd been so used to sex not being like this, charged and full of so much more than attraction. He's embarrassed when he becomes aware of tears forming in his eyes as he presses deeper into Timmy, his heart caught between them in the way they inhale as one. He follows the line of Timmy's jaw with his fingers until he can tangle up in his hair and find some comfort in the soft strands. He's close, emotionally and physically, to letting go of everything.

 

Timmy feels a wetness at his neck and it’s nearly tearing him apart. Two bare souls coming together in such a raw way unleashes a power he never thought possible. He moves his hips to meet Armie’s thrusts. “Armie, I love you.” He whispers and knows he sounds choked up. He turns his head trying to nudge his face up and kiss him.

 

Armie meets his lips easily enough but his hips falter. He reaches between them, takes Timmy in his hand, kisses him deeply. He's close and he's dizzy and he's crying and it's never felt like this, it's never been like this, and he's lost with nothing but Timmy's voice and body to guide him home. "Love you, too," he whispers against him, his eyes shut tight. "I always loved you," the confession surprising even himself because he realizes it might be true, genuinely.

 

“Yes, look at me.” Timmy reaches up and frames his face, waits until eyelids flutter open and reveal the most beautiful blue he’s ever seen. “Always will.” He finishes what Armie had started to say. They are both a mess but it’s okay because they have each other. Because it wouldn’t be them otherwise. “Finish it.” He pleads. He’s so hard it hurts but it fades behind the gravity of the moment and the onslaught of feelings. He doesn’t want it to be over but he’s about to fall apart and he needs Armie to hold him. To bring them to the peak together and seal them together. If possible for forever.

 

His words go straight through Armie, and as he presses his forehead against Timmy's, he picks up his rhythm until he can't breathe, a sappy incoherent mess of arousal and desperation and love. His fingers curl around Timmy, working him in time with his thrusts until he's sure they're at the edge. Finding whatever strength he has left, he kisses Timmy with a moan, his release shuddering through him in gasps and frantic fingers, his head falling forward when Timmy follows him over the edge. He's shaking, his breath sputtering in and out of his lungs too quick, and he knows he should move but he can't even feel his limbs as nothing but relief consumes him, his thoughts and nerve endings fragmented like treading water in a storm. His hand leaves Timmy, searches the bed, finds his hand and holds it tightly as he slips out of Timmy's body and recovers.

 

Even though they’re both sticky Timmy rolls closer immediately. They’re too out of breath to say anything but they don’t have to.  Timmy had never imagined it to be like this. He had thought it would be great but more like in the movies. He hadn’t thought they’d break down crying and he hadn’t thought about Armie being inexperienced. He hadn’t thought it would feel like their souls connected as well as their bodies. He rests his head on Armie’s shoulder. He also hadn’t thought it’d be this gentle. It’s not like he expected it to hurt but their desperation had been so big, a quick and hard fuck wouldn’t have been surprising. But it’s just how things with Armie were. They never stayed in the expected limits. “I think I just fell even more in love with you.” He mumbles. He’s stroking Armie’s sweaty chest lightly searching out the fast drum of his heart against his fingertips.

 

Armie laughs a little but he's still so breathless that barely any sound comes out. He covers Timmy's hand with his own and squeezes it tight before smoothing his fingers back out over skin. "Good, because after that I'd hate for sex to be the one thing that makes you stop liking me," he teases, mainly to cut the tension. He's not alone in his feeling, though; the sheer vulnerability, the feel of Timmy under him and around him, his voice in his ear, his  _ I love you _ ... Armie's sure he loves him more than ever before. "Sorry for crying," he whispers, his lungs stabilizing enough for everything to register in his mind.

 

Timmy shakes his head. "I started it, you just went with the trend." He jokes trying to lighten the atmosphere before thinking he doesn't have to with Armie. He's not going to laugh at him for being too emotional. "It's just... Everything we went through and- what I feel for you is just overwhelming." He explains. He tips his head back to look at Armie. There's so much vulnerability on his face it takes his breath away. He had seen times when Armie had worn the mask non-stop for several days and it had killed him for him. He felt like he'd been suffocating and he wasn't even the one hiding. Every interaction had felt wrong and nearly made him cringe. At that time he would never have thought that he would ever have this. The trust Armie put in him that he strips himself bare for him and learns that it's okay. "You know we probably wouldn't be here if I had won the Oscar." He muses. But perhaps they would still be. Drunken and celebrating, the three words said in euphoria rather than desperate sadness. He can picture it but what really counts is that they made it here. In this reality. In this lifetime.

 

"Oh, I don't know about that. I might have kissed you on the spot," Armie smiles, his hand lifting to smooth Timmy's wild hair before tangling up in it to pull him closer so he can kiss him. "Do you remember in Italy when we did  _ the _ ‘call me by your name’ scene? God, I thought you were so cute. You grabbed my chin, I loved that. It was so hard to remember we weren't those people back then, but I guess we sort of are. At least in love, you know?" He's rambling but he's  _ happy _ and it's been awhile since he's been this happy and he wants to memorize the lightness and Timmy's almost dazed smile and their hearts beating together, because he wants to remember this moment in fifty years, he wants this to never fade.

 

Timmy hums and grabs Armie’s chin, nibbling at his lip. “Elio and Oliver were more than just in love. And so are we.” He mumbles. Love is too simple a term for what he feels. It can’t just be a simple emotion. “When souls are meeting a magic occurs that you can’t understand until you’ve lived to experience it. It consumes the heart and tempers with the mind. Even though nothing is clear anymore, everything is,” Timmy recites, the lines coming to him freely.

 

Armie's head falls back on the pillow, a sound caught between a whimper and a laugh slipping out before he can stop it. "Fuck," he mutters. "That's not fair, you can't just say stuff like that, my heart's going to give out on me one day from all of this." What he means is  _ I don't deserve you _ , but he's been scolded for that so many times that he's learned his lesson. And really, it's not that he feels undeserving. Not anymore. It's more like he feels  _ no one _ is deserving, that no one could possibly be capable of being worthy of the love Timmy exudes, especially now, especially in this moment. He stares at his ceiling and feels his heart thump in his chest, Timmy's sheets a mess under him, Timmy's eyes on him. He lets his eyes slip shut and he says softly, "I always believed in love at first sight. I just... I don't know. I believed in that, but I never believed in soulmates, not really. It's a good sound bite but the actual concept always made me sick. What if I never met them, what if I only  _ thought _ I did, that sort of thing. It's easier to just not believe." He opens his eyes and shifts so he can look at Timmy, presses his hand against his cheek. "You make me  _ want _ to believe," he whispers.

 

Timmy turns his head, steals a cheeky kiss to the inside of his palm. “There’s nothing stopping us. This is our world. If we say it’s true and we’re soulmates then we are, you know.” He grins at Armie. There are moments when he can’t believe how Armie fell for him. The scrawny kid, the odd one out. How he earned the trust to be the one person he opens up to. It’s not completely without thanks to Luca- Luca! “We’ll need to call Luca later. When it’s a little less obvious what we just did.” He reminds Armie, sighs. “Thank you. There’s no way I’m taken this for granted.” He reaches up traces the spot under Armie’s eyes which speak to him now. “I want you to know that I’m going to do everything in my might to deserve this trust.” He promises.

 

"Timmy, he's going to know regardless," Armie laughs, sinking back into the bed further. Luca probably suspected as much already, he probably knew Armie was in New York and considering their last conversation, he's sure he'd put two and two together. A shiver passes through him now that he's come down from his high so he pulls Timmy to him tighter. "Everyone's going to know. We can't hide this. I can barely stop myself from staring at you as is, this is just going to make matters worse." If they were to get dressed and walk out onto the street right now, he's sure everyone would take one look at them and know. Their ability to be inconspicuous died a little more every day and this? Well. This might be the last nail in the coffin. All Armie wants is to touch him, even innocently, because it means so much more. He's not sure he'll be able to refrain. "Oh, we also need to get a hotel room," he mutters, reminding himself verbally in the hopes it sticks. Call Luca, book a hotel. A simple enough to-do list for now.

 

Timmy nods. “I know. It’s Luca. But still. I don’t want to call him right now. I love him but give me a moment just with you. That’s all I meant,” he explains, a little awkward. Armie is right, of course. Timmy is scared at the prospect of going to the zoo. It’ll be several hours exposed to the public eye and they were going as a family and they’d look like one, too. “You need to talk to her. Before the zoo. She’ll be devastated when she sees this without you enforcing that this is what’s happening.” He points out. He could understand it. He didn’t want to imagine losing Armie. It’s different for her but still... “I hate playing these hiding games. It’s not like I need to display our relationship on Instagram or whatever but purposely having to keep it away from it doesn’t feel good either.” It would change how people see him. The homophobic ones anyway but just normal people, too. They’d go,  _ Oh that boy from Call Me By Your Name? Yeah he has a boyfriend now _ . He wants them to. “I want people to know that I’m yours and you’re mine. Just let them know.” He mumbles and remembers Armie might see this as an expectation for the close future. “I’m trying to say I’m ready for it whenever you are.” He explains.

 

Armie rolls them over so he can nuzzle into the space where Timmy's neck meets shoulder, nipping the skin lightly before cuddling closer. "I know, I know. I'll do it tonight, I promise. I just..." he sighs and leans up to kiss Timmy for comfort. "I can't explain why I hesitate, I just do. It's not that I don't want to tell her it's just, there are unknowns I guess." He hides his face and adds, "It kind of scares me to be honest. I don't know how to be this happy, I keep waiting for the shoe to drop and the things I know will have that effect are terrifying me. I want this to go on forever and I don't want anyone fucking it up." He wants to keep their love and lives safe from judgement and cruelty, and he's certain it'll be alright in the media beyond the voices calling him a homewrecker, but Armie worries about all the other people. His family.

 

“It’s okay to be scared. It’s normal to be. But I want to know I’m here for you. No matter what. Even when I get upset like with the kids recently? I’m not going to leave you. That’s a fact and I want you to be able to count on that. Especially in moments like this,” he explains and wraps his arms around Armie’s shoulders letting his hands roam over his back. “But there’s nothing I could do to directly soften the blow and I’m so sorry about that. It’s not going to be helpful if I’m with you when you are talking to her. But I can be around. In reach whenever you need it,” he offers, fingers trailing up Armie’s neck. He wants to wrap them in this warmth and love and never leave it. It’s not possible but he wants nothing more than to keep the happiness in Armie’s life and the openness on his face.

 

Armie nods and presses his lips against Timmy's chest. "I think I have to do it alone, maybe you can be with the kids or something. She knows it's coming, I'm sure. But I also need to know what I'm allowed to say to Hops, you know? Because I want to hold your hand. It's killing me that I can't until she knows. And even then, what if she freaks out," he groans, rolling away from Timmy and sitting up. Realizing he's still wearing the condom, he discards it in the small trash can in Timmy's room. His elbows rest on his knees and he stares at a poster on Timmy's wall, wishing he'd known him when he was younger. Maybe he would have come out a hell of a lot sooner had he known him.

 

Timmy sits up with him and wraps his arms around his waist, kisses his shoulder. “I know. It’s scaring me, too. I don’t want them to hate you. I want to get along with them. Be perhaps like a father they can accept as well,” he mumbles and follows Armie’s gaze. He remembers putting the poster up and feeling a little better then. Armie is probably wondering about exactly that. “There’s no use in dwelling on the past. You know if we had met before you met her... I would’ve been like 6. Age doesn’t define our limits now. It’s never too late to live a fulfilled life.” He reminds him nuzzling the crook of his neck.

 

"Don't even talk about the age thing," Armie says, chuckling a little. "I accept it and it doesn't matter but don't say it like that," he says, turning and kissing him full on. "For the record, I also want that. For them to call you--or you for them to see you as a father figure. I don't want them to ever doubt what you are. You're my..." he falters. What  _ is _ Timmy? "You're everything," he whispers. "And obviously I can't see the future or anything but I want you there for everything which means being there for everything they do, too. And they're young; even if they get upset, they'll get over it but it still terrifies me that I'll mess them up because this, us, we should not be the cause of anything bad. I  don't know, I'm rambling. I just really want this to work," he says, leaning into Timmy.

 

“I like rambling Armie. He’s honest,” Timmy points out. They lean against each other in quiet love. “We’ll do our best. It’s all we can do. And deal with the consequences I guess.” He sighs and lets his thoughts wander. The sweat and cum had slowly dried on him and while he doesn’t want to break this situation he’d rather have clean skin. “You know... we have a bigger shower here.” He informs Armie in an innocent tone.

 

Armie smiles and looks back at him. "Well thank fuck for that," he jokes, leaning in and kissing him as his hand connects with Timmy's thigh. "That would actually be really nice," he says. They could use one and he'd been deprived before of holding him under the water at Timmy's place. "Lead the way," he tells him, pressing another kiss to his jaw. He could be a pretty handsy guy even in passing, in innocence. Put this much emotion behind grazed fingers and skimming kisses and he can't resist the temptation to maintain some form of touch at all times.

 

“Gladly.” Timmy grins and entwines their fingers. Stark naked they move through the flat to the bathroom. “Look at that. Should fit even an impossible giant, like you.” He pulls him closer and kisses him, one hand possessively slipping on his ass. Armie is a giant but every inch of him belongs to Timmy. It’s still impossible how the tall, blond haired, blue eyed movie star had fallen for him.  He has an effect on people or can have it if he wanted to. He’s aware of that. But this... is a bit much if he’s honest. But he now that he  _ knows _ , he’ll never stop teasing. It’s like his second nature.

 

Armie's eyebrows shoot up and a smirk dances across his lips. It occurs to him that this is the first time they've actually had an opportunity to be with each other, alone, after exploring each others bodies. In Crema they were too timid, so the teasing seemed to pause after intimate scenes. In Austin, he had to go back to Elizabeth. And the other night, well, kids are great until they're not. He decides immediately that he loves Timmy like this, confident and blissed out, dazed in love and bold with touch. He plans to never grow tired of it, to encourage it every chance he gets. "We'll see," he says. "I'm going to be  _ very _ disappointed if I can't take a shower with you." He presses him to a wall and sucks on his neck, knowing he's risking a mark, so he keeps it brief. "Turn the water on," he says, pulling back and linking his fingers through the spaces of Timmy's to remove it from his ass.

 

Timmy holds on, squeezes a little. “Are you giving orders now?” he teases. “Do I look like your servant? Why don’t you turn the water on yourself?” he asks and bites his chin lightly, playfully. There’s a giddiness inside of him that can only appear with secure happiness. It bubbles up and for once he’s not afraid to be too weird, too playful, offering deep insights on topics people his age often have never heard about or have a rather shallow opinion on. He tips his head back, offering the expanse of his neck. “You know when I grabbed your chin in that scene in Crema you tried to kiss me with tongue.” He points out. “That’s not very professional.” He angles his hips a little closer to Armie’s crotch.

 

"I thought I already told you, I had trouble remembering we weren't those people," he says, a hand on Timmy's hip to keep him at bay. "I'd say unprofessional is pretty accurate,  _ Tim. _ " He moves to the shower and turns it on. "Besides, if only you knew my state of mind after that scene." He smirks at the shower curtain, not even needing to look to know the words would affect him. "It was rude, really. You not kissing me with tongue. I had to use my imagination that night," he teases, this time turning to watch Timmy's eyes darken.

 

So this is also them. The flirtatiousness, the teasing. “It’s not like I didn’t kiss you with tongue at other points. However Luca cut the obvious ones out. We should be thankful.” He hurries into the shower after Armie. “But I can make up for it. Gladly,” he suggests and moves up to kick a stripe over his lips again. Another afternoon in which they’d been too close. Luca had been thrilled at their chemistry but it had been exhausting weeks for his cock and his right hand. Days in the past. Now Armie is here and he’s Armie.

 

Armie pushes him back until the water cascades over them, his lips skating over the water droplets slipping below Timmy's jaw and down his Adam's apple, his hands braced on the wall on either side of Timmy. Like a cartographer, he maps him, starting at the base of his neck and around to the shell of his ear, down his jawline, tugging his lip, licking water off his nose delicately. His hands pull at Timmy's hair gently and the combination of senses makes him moan. "What was that about making up for it?" he asks, pulling away just enough that the water isn't in his face.

 

Timmy reaches up and fists his hands into Armie’s hair pulling him back under the water. “Oh I can kiss you all day no problem.” He murmurs and plunges his tongue into Armie’s mouth. They kiss heatedly under the water, feet slipping on the wet floor in a desperate attempt to get closer to each other. Timmy maps the inside of his mouth so he can recall it forever. He had known back then if he had let Armie into his mouth at that moment, in that scene he would’ve fallen apart. The thin semblance of Elio around him had fallen apart and left the naked truth. There had been too much of himself in that performance perhaps. It had ultimately changed who he is. But he doesn’t regret it. Not for a second.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rereads chapter we wrote months ago** enjoy lol

Their first kiss on the lawn left Armie confused and intrigued, and from that moment he was gone; every day he wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this without anyone else, without scripts, completely consumed by the other. He lets him take what he wants, loving this too much to even think about taking control back. He likes Timmy pulling his hair, his tongue skirting around his mouth in a hurried but oddly practiced manner. His hands lift to wrap his fingers around Timmy's forearms to keep him in place and his thumbs swipe over the slick skin. He has to part at some point for air, his lungs tight and lips swollen. "You're wonderful," he mutters, meaning the words to stay in his mind but finding he doesn't really mind when they escape and find Timmy.

 

Timmy smiles, feeling the bliss of being with him like this where they’re just themselves and it’s enough. More than enough. The feeling of acceptance and love is almost overwhelming. “So are you.” He assures Armie. He lets himself be held by him, naked skin to naked skin. He knows Armie has troubles believing it more often than not but he can’t say it’s easy for him either. He needs to hear it, too. They both have to work on accepting these kind of things from each other. It’s one of the way they make each other better.

Armie hums and smiles against him, his heart full. Pulling away, he kisses him lightly before looking around and finding shampoo. His smile turns on itself until he's smirking and reaching for it, pouring some in his hand and turning Timmy so he can wash his hair, his hands raking through the strands. "New rule, I always wash your hair," he smiles, the curls calmed under the water and his efforts. He leans down and kisses his shoulder, his fingers slipping in and out of his hair as he washes him. It's the best excuse to play with his hair, he thinks.

 

Timmy closes his eyes, head falling back to enjoy the massage. “I’m not complaining.” He mumbles. He would purr if he could but he has to settle for a satisfied hum. “Definitely best boyfriend ever. Tall enough to carry me everywhere, can cook and clean, skilled fingers to massage and... well.” He ends the sentence in a suggestive tone, his lips quirking into a smile. “Also handsome, terrific actor, cute children, nice manners, absolutely lovely,” he raves. Armie guides him under the water then and cleans the shampoo out. Timmy sighs and turns around. “Your turn.” It’s a stretch but he manages to reach up and let the strands of blond hair run through his fingers. He remembers how they looked golden under Italy’s sun.

 

Armie's grinning and he can't stop, his heart feeling like it might burst. He leans his head to help him get access and sighs deeply at his fingers threading through his hair. "Carry you everywhere? Don't tempt me," he teases, a hand reaching out to brush against his side softly. He can't even acknowledge the rest of what he's said; he's starting to get more accustomed to the praise from Timmy but it still leaves him breathless, how much he loves and admires him. "Mmm, I love you," he sighs, perfectly content. "But you're going to need a bigger apartment so we can do this more often." He lets Timmy do what he wants, relishes in the weight of his hands.

 

Timmy hums. He agrees of course but a new flat meant a lot of commitment. “About that...” His chest tightens. He doesn’t want to ruin the mood, the happy grin on Armie’s face. He hesitates. Then hesitates a moment longer until Armie looks up at him, happy grin already gone. “No, I’m just saying that I don’t know... it’ll be difficult to ship the kids back and forth between LA and here. They’ll go to school soon. I don’t want you to be apart from them for so long. So maybe... we should wait before getting an apartment here and rather think about moving to LA. Or well, I think about moving to LA,” he explains. He stretches, unwilling to give up the massage.

 

Armie nods, his body a little numb. "I don't want you to move if you don't want to. Your family is here," Armie says, his hand reaching out to rest on Timmy's heart. "She might go to Texas, to be honest. Even if she doesn't... I like New York, too. Maybe we have two places, an LA house and a New York house," he says. He feels like he's charting out their lives and it stresses him out a little but it's also incredible to be here, talking about where they're going to live.  _ Together. _ Where they'd raise kids. "I don't want you to give up New York, I love you and I love your family, we're not giving up New York."

 

Timmy shakes his head. “It’s not like it would wipe New York off the map, silly. We can visit. We have to think about the financial weight of two houses. Armie, no, that’d be too much.” Perhaps he would be able to finance that but Timmy doesn’t want to live off his money. It makes him feel uneasy. It’s bad enough Armie would pay for most things right now. Timmy doesn’t want his work to be about money. That’s not what art is for him. He hadn’t expected to suddenly have two children and a boyfriend which of course increases expenses. He would be okay with moving to LA. There are some ugly pits for a young actor to fall into which he’d be afraid of otherwise but a family and firm circle of friends would give him stability.

 

Armie groans. "I don't want to uproot you," he says. He shakes his head and leans down to kiss him softly. "I guess I already did that," he admits. "Do you want to be in LA? I hate this, I don't want you to do it if you don't want to. I feel like I'm putting so much on you. I don't want to take you away from here, too." It's a lot to ask, Armie knows this. So he hasn't. He doesn't want to create any sort of situation where Timmy might regret this or him.

 

It warms Timmy’s heart. He knows Armie is the right one since he worries about him like that. “I want to be with you and I want you to be happy,” he makes clear. It’s his priority right now. It’s what makes him happy and his friends and family would understand that. “It’s something you should figure out in the course of the divorce. In which city they are going to grow up. I would love for it to be New York but they have their friends in LA already and it’s cruel to rip them from that. We’ll bring them here to see my mom and dad. They’ll want to see them grow up.” He points out. He sees Armie’s stricken face. He hates that they have to start making compromises already, Timmy can tell. “Let me decide. Trust me.” He urges him.

 

Armie kisses him solidly, careful to keep them out of the worst of the water stream so they can still breathe. "I love you," he mumbles against his lips, then again at his jaw. "I'll talk to her I guess. Their lives are going to be a lot of traveling, I hate that but it's what it is. It's better than two parents who don't want to be together." Just saying it helps him know he needs to do it. He worries about the kids sometimes, but in so many ways, staying with her would only make all of them miserable. "We both have movies and shit to film coming up so maybe after that we can look for a place? Give the media some time to cool it so they don't think we're rushing into things." He reaches for the soap and a washcloth and decides Timmy's body is next. They were after all in the shower with at least one goal of getting clean.

 

Timmy nods. “That sounds good.” The media is another thing they need to tackle. Not right now when Armie is mapping his body with his hands and leaving kisses wherever he goes. “I have a Fallon show coming up. What do you want me to tell them when he asks about the paparazzi pics and you being here in New York?” He asks eyes closed and head tipped back to enjoy the soft touches.

 

Armie smirks and kisses a line of water off of Timmy's now exposed throat. "I don't know, honestly. He's going to tease you about it, so get ready. He might suspect something but he probably doesn't think we're bold enough. So he'll probably make a joke out of it and you have to be ready to roll with whatever he says," Armie tells him, running the washcloth over his arms, biting his lip. "You'll probably end up rambling," he laughs. "It's alright, I mean depending on how bad the pictures will be of us at the zoo you might have to say something. Our publicists might give you a sound bite, they did that to me in the beginning, no one fucking trusted me to have free rein to talk about you," he chuckles. He kisses the space just under his ear and says, "Probably just don't mention me fucking you in your childhood bed until we cried," he suggests, his voice controlled as if he were listing things they needed to buy at a grocery store. He still couldn't believe he'd cried; he  _ never _ cries during sex, never has and never thought he would.

 

Timmy sputters. “Armie Hammer!” He opens his eyes and attacks the weak spot in his side. He can’t just say that! “You fucking tease!” He laughs breathlessly. The washcloth and soap fall to the floor as Armie tries to wrestle him off. “But I can tell them about the time I sucked you off while our kids were sleeping next door, huh?” he asks, pressing him against the wall. Timmy is so glad they had this levity that allows them to start joking at any given point, always eager to hear the other laugh.

 

"If you're also telling them about how you came in your boxers from it," he smirks, tickling him back and grabbing his wrists with a fit of laughter. "The best part is, now when you're on there you're going to be thinking about it," he teases, nipping at his throat playfully. "You'll be thinking about me and I'll know it." His chest, usually a bit tight and weighted, is exposed and light with this new dynamic. He's relieved to find they still tease and flirt like they did before the Oscars, that it's only different now because they can act on whatever they say; it's like Italy but so much better, and he remembers again that they'll need to thank Luca later.

 

Timmy whines, putting a playful fight up against Armie, restricting him. “I hate you.” Armie is probably right. It would make him blush and fidget and Armie would have the time of his life watching it. “I’m going to make you pay for that. Just so you know,” he threatens, but it sounds a little weak and breathless with Armie nipping at his skin. 

 

Eventually they make it out of the shower giggling and shoving and kissing each other but they get dressed following the line of clothes, settling together in the couch of the living room. They call Luca. 

“Armie? And Timmy. Good to hear from you two.” Their friend greets them, eyes flicking between them with one of his happy and knowing smiles on his face.

“Luca. It’s so good to hear from you, too.” Timmy said. It’s impossible to deny what has happened with the way he’s tucked into Armie’s shoulder but he’s not embarrassed or shy about it. It feels right to tell people.

 

Armie smiles at him through the screen, seeing that Luca understands immediately the purpose of the call. "Yeah, so... I'm in New York," Armie says, shrugging. 

"I can see that," Luca smiles, all kind and proud. "I wasn't sure you'd find it within yourself to go so soon." 

"I couldn't wait," he tells him, looking at Timmy with a small smile. "I love him," he says, a grin breaking out on his face, his eyes still on Timmy. He looks adorable tucked to his side, his hair still damp and a mess of curls that makes Armie's heart overflow with fond.

Timmy blushes noticing the conviction and ease with which Armie spoke these words. He squirms in his hold a little and looks up at him. “I love you, too.” He says and hides his face in his shoulder knowing it’s burning up. There’s so much giddy happiness in him he can hardly contain it. He turns his head to look back at the screen, scooting just that bit closer when he feels a kiss on his forehead. Surprised, he looks up at Armie. 

Luca is content with watching them, reads the deep happiness that fills Armie which he’d never seen in him before and Timmy slightly disbelieving, energetic excitement to have this be his reality. He’s more than happy for him. “I’m glad.”

 

Armie turns his eyes back to Luca. "I know we just talked about this not that long ago but I feel like I have to say it again. Thank you for what you did for us. I can't even thank you enough for this," he says, squeezing Timmy's shoulder. 

"I didn't do anything but give you the space you needed to explore." Armie smirks and shakes his head. He's too modest. Luca feels a bit overwhelmed seeing them together like this, though. He'd always known it was possible, but seeing it and seeing the genuine happiness accompanying it is more wonderful than he'd even imagined.

 

Timmy nods. “He’s right,” he says with a nod to Armie. “You gave me a person that understands me truly. I never thought that was possible. I was convinced I’d ended up lonely as some mediocre actor in a sitcom. But you brought me to the Oscars and gave me him. There’s nothing I don’t have to thank you for. Honestly.” Timmy makes it clear, not taking Luca’s disagreement. “You’re a genius, Luca. Thank you for allowing us to meet and develop,” he says and tips his head against Armie’s neck.

 

Luca watches with a smile and shakes his head a little, resting his head on his free hand. "Andre is going to love this," he mumbles. "You should tell him, he'll be very moved." He'd discussed these possibilities with Andre before, as well as Michael and even on one occasion James. They were all aware this might happen, especially after the first read through with everyone when the tension had already surpassed what most directions hope to reach by the end of filming. Andre had pulled him aside one day nearly in tears, overwhelmed at his characters alive in front of him. They'd discussed it in depth, both nervous yet hopeful these two wouldn't sever ties like the characters in the book had for so many years. They'd had faith, and it appears it was worthwhile after all. 

"We'll add him to the list," Armie says, nodding. He could sense where Luca's mind traveled and it makes him a little self conscious to realize just how many people might have looked at them in Italy and seen this outcome so easily.

 

Timmy nods. Armie is right. They have to throw a party and thank everyone when they have fully sorted this mess out. “We’ll call him.” He assures Luca. He’s not sure what to think about the confirmation that even André had thought about this to the point he contacted Luca apparently. 

“Just don’t worry about getting this out there as fast as possible. Take care of you first of all.” Luca advices. He would hate for the media to destroy them. There are always cruel judgements. 

Timmy nods. “It’s difficult though. We have the kids and they need to go out and about. It’s never as easy as we want it to be.” He points out. That doesn’t mean he isn’t ready to tackle those challenges.

 

"Love isn't supposed to be easy," Luca says softly. "It's life, it gets messy. But I think you'll be fine," he smiles. Armie feels warm; it's the answer he knows he won't be lucky to get from everyone. "Just remember to help each other through it." 

"Thanks, Luca," Armie says, knowing no words would ever properly express his gratitude. "I think we're trying to. I can't imagine doing any of this without him."

 

Luca is such a wise man and Timmy feels honoured to have him in his life and be able to go to him and talk to him about things that confuse him. And Armie of course is also a gift. He turns to look up at him again meeting his soft smile. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.” Timmy points out. He’d be a pretty big asshole if he left him hanging with this now, wouldn’t he?

Luca observes the way they can’t stop looking and praising and touching each other and it warms his heart. Every true love made this world a better place.

 

Armie shakes his head and nudges his shoulder. "For  _ you _ ?" He moves his arm from around Timmy's shoulders and reaches for his hand to hold. "Sure. I'm doing it for  _ you, _ definitely not selfishly wanting this." He has the urge to kiss him and realizes Luca won't care, so he does. He kisses him, his hand holding the phone lowering of its own accord. Timmy tastes like toothpaste still from before they left this morning and it makes him smile when he pulls back, Luca with a fond smirk staring back at them.

 

Timmy’s heart feels full and it feels like it’s about to burst into a thousand pieces because surely this is too much. It’s too good. “How’s Italy, Luca? Tell us about your new movies,” he asks, leaning into Armie’s side and enjoying just doing something this normal and unspectacular with him. 

Luca talks and they trade it with stories of the kids, Timmy talks about getting into headspace for England and Armie voices his concerns about doing theatre. Luca is always gentle in his advice. He would never tell you what to do. He’s more subtle than that. He knows you better than you do yourself and knows just what to say to nudge you into the right direction.

 

Armie loves this new family they found together. He lets them talk shop for awhile and soothes his thumb over Timmy's hand just because he can. Their voices are home to him and it's comforting in all the right ways. At some point, he leans over to press a kiss on Timmy's shoulder absentmindedly and lingers with his chin against him even though it means he has to sink down into the couch. Their conversation slows and if they were still in Italy this would be when they poured wine and suggested a film. He misses it, but wouldn't trade this for the world.

 

Luca smiles, sensing they would be okay from here on out. “Alright, boys. I think I’ll leave you to your much deserved time.” When the boys complain he’s not bothering them he insists and hangs up on them after wishing them all the best. They’ll surely hear from each other again. 

Timmy sighs and turns his head pressing a kiss to Armie’s mouth. It’s comfortable and warm in this space. He puts Armie’s phone on the table before pulling him down on top of him. There, comforted by the weight on top he relaxes into the couch cushions idly stroking Armie’s sides.

 

Armie kisses him lazily and shivers with his touch, squirming a little when it starts tickling and laughing a little breathlessly. It's comfortable and easy and he wants every day to be full of this. Kissing Timmy is just as intoxicating yet soothing as it was the first time, the growing familiarity of his lips eagerly earned. "Love you," he whispers against his lips.

 

Timmy pecked his lips again. “Love you, too.” This must be heaven, he muses. Every day should be full of this. Of long kisses and warm cuddles. Hot sex and long showers. It’s perfect. A calm before the storm that awaits surely. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of Armie’s neck and inhales the scent of home there. 

“When do you think we should head back?” He asks already dreading having to part from him again.

 

"Shh," Armie groans, biting his shoulder playfully. His hand slips under Timmy's shirt and rests around his ribs as he nuzzles closer. "Don't want to go yet," he mumbles like an insolent child. They had to soon, he knows this. But he also thinks they could probably get away with staying a bit longer, too. It's not like his mom doesn't know they wanted time, she gave them the apartment willingly. They just had to worry about his dad coming home.

 

“Mmmh Armie. Not on the couch. What if dad-“ But Armie has already pushed his shirt up and is kissing down his stomach now. Timmy squirms in his hold and arches into his touch. Hot arousal drips into his loins and he feels himself growing hard again. How that is possible after their mind blowing orgasm earlier is a mystery to him but here they are. His hand goes into Armie’s soft hair that has dried by now and grabs a handful.

 

Armie moans against him, partially because he can't help it, partially because he thinks it'll make Timmy harder. When it does, he smirks against his abdomen and nips at his skin. Realizing he can hide marks here, Armie sucks the skin against his hip until Timmy curses, both of Armie's hands pressing hard into his thighs. He scrapes his teeth across the waist of his pants to the other side and leaves a matching mark, his heart racing wildly. He can't believe he's doing this, and yet hasn't he dreamed of it enough? It shouldn't surprise him at this point, how he wanted him so much.

 

Timmy’s head swims with want. The desire to devour Armie again. There’s no time now. After Armie had cruelly left his marks Timmy pushed him up into a seating position instantly straddling his lap. Their mouths meet in a heated kiss and it feels like the only air which he can breathe is coming from Armie’s mouth and he has to do everything to capture it. He rolls his hips impatiently, and being met with the proof of Armie’s own arousal shouldn’t send a hot wave of pleasure through him but it does.

 

Armie moans into him, his hands eager and hot on Timmy's back down to his ass to hold him closer. He kisses him for a moment and then lingers, breathing deeply in time with him a few inches away, his eyes locked on him. He wonders if they could cum like this, completely clothed, just through eye contact. His heart jumps at the thought.  _ Probably. Definitely. _ He lifts his hands to frame Timmy's face and rests his wrists on his neck, a shiver running through him.

 

There’s something dripping between their eyes. A form of communication he only shares with Armie. He feels it add to the knot of arousal. There’s something about having the certainty of love that makes their bond stronger instead of duller. He can look at Armie’s eyes and sees the love and desire there and knows it’s all for him.

 

Armie kisses him until he's breathless and it becomes difficult to keep his hips to himself. His hands run over Timmy's thighs, his breath over skin, heart deep in Timmy's chest. "Let me " he says, panting, holding him around the hips and shifting so he hovers over Timmy on the couch. He keeps his shirt in place, letting his hands run over it as he sits back on his heels to unzip Timmy's pants. He palms him for a moment, relishing in the gasp from Timmy he's rewarded with. Leaning down, he presses his lips to the space above the button of his pants and sucks lightly as he drags the fabric down and away from his body, leaving the pants loosely hung around his thighs. His hands explore the skin he hasn't had a decent chance to worship yet, the tender skin inches from where Timmy's desperation grows. Armie glances up at him and smiles, his nails scraping lightly down Timmy's thighs.

 

Timmy groans reading the mischief in Armie’s eyes. He is going to take his sweet time, Timmy already knows. “Fuck, Armie.” He whines as Armie teases the tongue tip across the sensitive skin. “Please.” 

It’s too late that he hears the key turn in the lock. “Armie!” He pulls at him. “Fuck. Armie!”

 

"Fuck! Pants, god, fuck, pull your pants up!" Armie's whispering as loud as he can. His hands are shaking as he leaps off Timmy and runs his hands through his hair, adjusts himself in his pants. Of course. Of fucking course. "Timmy!" he whisper shouts at him, his eyes watching him pull up his pants and zip just as the door opens. He's unbelievably hard and knowing Timmy is dripping and disheveled isn't helping. He stares at him from where he's standing at the other end of the couch, his chest heaving. 

"Oh! I'm sorry, I thought you'd be gone by now," Marc says, looking between them and narrowing his gaze. Armie swears he sees him smirk but it's gone before he can really process, especially considering his cloudy mind.

 

Timmy feels his cheeks heat up, afraid his dad could see everything that just transpired. “Uhm. Yeah. Hey dad. Sorry. We kinda forget the time.” He runs a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to push them back down. 

“Oh yeah. Well. It happens. I remember when I brought your mother to your grandparents-“ Marc notices the look his son gives him. “I think- I actually forgot something I can-“ He gestures to the door. 

Timmy appreciates the attempt at privacy. “It’s fine. We are going in my room.” He shoots his dad a pointed look telling him to stay away. When he stands up he tries to angle himself so he doesn’t see the boner. “Come, Armie.” He fists his hands in Armie’s shirt and pulls him up.

 

Armie follows, trying to slip a mask on to hide how affected he is but knowing Marc isn't an idiot and clearly knows what's happening. He doesn't really care, though, he's past the point of caring, all he can think about is getting him alone. As they walk down the hall, Armie starts trailing a hand along his back, and the moment they're through his door he's pushing him against the wall, his hand on his crotch immediately. "Does your door have a lock?" he breathes into his ear.

 

“He won’t come to bother us. I’m sure he got the hint,” Timmy pants out. He reaches down and pushes his trousers and pants out of the way, eagerly pressing up against Armie. “Fuck, come on.”

There’s the loud and pointed bang of the front door and Timmy laughs out. “Now you can make me scream,” he says, teasing but absolutely meaning it.

 

Armie drops to his knees and grabs his ass, his lips eager against his hip. "Tell me if I'm doing this wrong," he says, but he's pretty fucking sure he knows how to do this at this point, especially because he's gotten some pretty good blow jobs for comparison. He figures Timmy likes the tease, so he starts painfully slow, his tongue tracing a line along him.

 

Timmy groans hands fisting in his hair and pulling slightly at the strands. “This is... pretty much... the opposite... of wrong.” He pants out and pushes his hips forward when Armie teases his slit. “It’s- unfair how good you are already,” he complains and whines. He knows he had this coming for him with his constant teasing but it drives him crazy nonetheless. Would he go back two years in time and tell himself he’d have Armie on his knees before him, ready to bring him off... well he wouldn’t have believed himself. “Fuck! Stop teasing.” He just wants the hot mouth on his cock but it wanders lower instead, sucking a bruise into his thigh.

 

Armie finds he enjoys this far too much to stop, his hands running down the back of Timmy's legs as delicately as he can, his teeth biting gently into the skin of his thighs. "You said you wanted to scream," he says, looking up, curling his fingers into his ankles. He wasn't sure it was even possible to love him more, but his moan proves him wrong.

 

“Ah fuck Armie.” It’s the sweetest torture and Timmy can feel his knees starting to shake. “Bed. Armie. Bed.” He lets him go so he can stumble over and sit on the edge. Armie doesn’t give him a break though and he loves and hates him for it. When he  _ finally _ wraps his lips around his shaft and sucks Timmy sees stars and does scream. It would please Armie, he hopes. Make him heighten his efforts even more. He is right until he can feel his orgasm approaching and all muscles in his body tighten. That’s when Armie pulls off. “Fucking bastard!” Timmy curses and goes limp on the bed. He loves that they’re able to do this and loves him for knowing exactly how to drive him crazy.

 

Armie crawls over him and presses his hips against his, letting his mouth go hot on his ear. "I kind of like you desperate," he says, grinding his hips forward. "Mmm.  _ Fuck, _ " he moans, his hands moving to press Timmy's arms into the bed.

 

Timmy had not anticipated being turned on by this. It’s no secret Armie liked to be dominant in bed but to actual have him take control affects Timmy in ways he hadn’t thought were possible. “Oh god, Armie.” His eyes fall shut and he runs on instinct alone, pressing his hips up to meet Armie’s. Even if his ass would disagree Timmy would let him do with him whatever he wants right now.

 

Armie kisses him hard and then slips back down his body, pulling his pants the rest of the way off. He kisses his foot with a small smile, remembering their scene, and then stands to strip his own pants off. He reaches for the condoms again and tosses one on the bed and presses his way back up Timmy's body slowly. "I love you," he says at his chest, right over his heart.

 

Timmy relaxed under the soft words. Feels them wrap around himself like a warm blanket on a cold day. He isn’t alone anymore. “I love you, too.” He assures him. For a moment they only look at each other. A moment of calm in the sea of their want. Then Timmy spreads his legs a little wider. Inviting Armie to continue. “It’s okay.” He assures him. “I want it.” He leans forward to kiss him. Sitting would be an ordeal the following days but Timmy would love that, too. A reminder that this really happened. That Armie wants him.

 

Armie shakes his head a little and presses a series of kisses against him. "Tell me to stop if it's too much okay?" He sits up and puts on the condom, grabs the lube. He's a little nervous; with how much he wants him, he doesn't want to hurt him and he's not sure how much is too much considering it's pretty soon after. His hand shakes a little but he's far more confident now than this morning when he touches him, his hand slipping under him and pressing a finger in and lifting his knees so it's easier, thinking it might help ease tension. He knows what it feels like to hit his prostate now so he doesn't stop until he knows Timmy is as desperate as he is. He enters him with a moan, his thumbs pressing into his hip.

 

It’s a sweet tug of pain. His insides feel too sensitive for this much so soon but he wants to. He wants it so much. Armie had made sure to use plenty of lube so it isn’t that bad. When he’s fully sheathed in him Timmy stops him. “Wait, wait.” For a moment he fears the drag against the sore skin but relaxes himself, uses the time to kiss Armie and soon his arousal takes over again and he nods. “Okay, move.” He assures him. It’s wonderful to watch Armie’s face transform into one of pure pleasure.

 

It feels as good as it did earlier, but there's something else in the touch that he didn't have this morning. A comfort, an understanding of what he's doing, how to touch him and make him enjoy this, too. He shifts a little to avoid a leg cramp when he starts thrusting faster and finds Timmy gripping the sheets. Testing it, he shifts the same way again, smirking when Timmy grabs his arm and moans. He's not sure what he's doing to make him close his eyes so tight but he does it again and again to keep that look on his face. It's beautiful and sexy as hell and he wants to memorize the crease in his forehead when he moves the right way. The look on his face drives self control away from Armie though and he finds himself desperately hoping Timmy was close, one of his hands moving to hold his arm down while the other slips between them.

 

The touch nearly burns Timmy alive. He can’t hold back to coordinate with Armie when he pumps him quick and hard in time with his thrusts and then angles his hips just right to hit his prostate. He screams again as his vision goes white and the arousal explodes in his loins making every muscle in his body clench. Armie thrusts once, twice more and Timmy hadn’t known he would like that either. Bearing the sweet pain in the knowledge it would make Armie come. It’s also the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen or felt and now he gets the time to appreciate it. The stutter of hips, the broken moan, the expression relaxing into one speaking of bliss.

 

Armie's panting, his body shaking, his vision hazy and blurred. "Oh god," he gasps, pulling out and rolling onto his back. "I fucking love you," he says, trying to catch his breath. "God, you're a fucking dream." He turns his head and smiles at him, still coming down. A part of him wants never to leave this bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh um. i mean listen we made you wait so long for sex i guess we made up for it lmfao /shrug


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all fiction blah blah blah THANK YOU FOR READING!!! Our readers mean a lot to us <3

Timmy chuckles breathlessly. “I can return the compliment,” he said and reached down to touch Armie’s very sensitive but still huge cock. “Dream come true,” he whispers with a dirty grin. “Now we have to clean up again. We didn’t think this through. Mom is going crazy with the kids I bet.” He sighs, hating for reality to catch up with them so quickly.

 

Armie's at a loss for words when he touches him, a little shocked, and then a little shocked that  _ this _ of all things shocks him. "She hasn't called has she? Would she call if they were too much?" he asks, sitting up and tossing his condom. He leans down to kiss Timmy's knee and sighs, sated and blissed.

 

Timmy sighs. “Well she might actually tell us to come back,” he jokes. “Let me check my phone,” he assures him and stretches around to grabs his phone. He’s surprised by the soft tickle of stubble and lips on his stomach and chuckles. “Armie! You’re not making this easy,” he points out. He holds his phone up to check his messages.

 

Armie smiles and lays down, his hands folded over his chest as he watches Timmy. "You're so cute," he says after a minute, Timmy's hair messy and cheeks pink. He could stare at him all day, thinks maybe one of these days he'll do just that-- lay in bed and stare into his eyes for hours and hours until he becomes a part of him.

 

Timmy glances at him. His mother hasn’t texted him so he sends her a message and waits for a reply glancing down at Armie. “Shut up.” He slaps Armie lightly. He’s just a scrawny kid from Hell’s Kitchen. Armie is the one who is the incarnation of male beauty. Timmy is not unsatisfied with his appearance but it’s not one to be worshipped. “Stop staring.” He squirms.

 

"Ah, come on. Let me admire the view," he says with a smile, reaching out and tickling him. He sits up and tucks his fingers into his hair to pull him in for a kiss. He smiles through it, kissing him playfully over and over until he's giggling.

 

“You’re silly,” Timmy accuses, not that he particularly minds. It’s absolutely flattering and when he thinks about Armie wanting and loving him...it made butterflies dance in his stomach. “Thankfully I love you, silly.” His phone chimes and he presses a last kiss to Armie’s lips before checking it. “She says they’re a bit fuzzy but still under control.” He sighs, knowing they better not provoke a situation in which the situation escalates.

 

Armie nods and lets out another sigh. "It's probably good we have the kids," he says, glancing towards Timmy's window. "I'm not sure we'd ever stop if we didn't, and as tempting as that is, I also don't want to ruin walking for you."  Armie says it so nonchalantly that he almost looks back to see if Timmy reacts, but doesn’t. To be honest, he wouldn't mind napping right about now. Maybe they'd get lucky and the kids would go down for an afternoon nap as soon as they got home.

 

Timmy giggles. “You’d love it,” he teases. He feels sticky with sweat and he’d love to take a shower, but they’d just get lost in each other again ending up being even later. If they’re not back on time now the kids will never allow them to go again. “Come on. Up you go.” He kicks Armie’s shin and trots to the bathroom so he can wipe the worst of the mess away.

 

Armie groans and follows him, slapping his ass lightly and kissing his shoulder when he passes. "Back to reality," he sighs, cleaning himself. "Hey, I love you," he says, looking at him steadily. "I know this is complicated with the kids but don't doubt for a single second that this is what I want. I've fought for you before and I'll do it again," he tells him. He's not sure how his conversation with Elizabeth will go but if it goes poorly he needs Timmy to understand it doesn't change anything. He's in this now, he's not going to let anything get in the way of this life with him.

 

It makes Timmy’s heart flutter. Every reminder of Armie’s love and how strong and firm it is. He doesn’t for a second take his actions for granted. He remembers how it felt to be left by him even with the knowledge that he loves. Just not enough. It turns out that it is enough. More and stronger than Timmy had ever guessed. “I love you, too and I want this, too. You need to know that. Even when I’m struggling with the kids sometimes. It’s a big chance but I want it so much I can’t bear to think of not having it,” he assures and moves forward to hug him.

 

Armie wraps him up with a sigh. He'd wanted this comfort for so long that it's almost surreal to hold him so freely. "Maybe one day I'll stop being so overwhelmed by this," he whispers,  tightening his arms. He's called his arms home before-- god is it true. He's safe and warm and loving and wonderful. When Armie pulls away, he knows they have to go back to Timmy's apartment. They were out of time, their secluded morning over.

 

They remain touching as much as possible until they arrived at Timmy’s apartment. A last try to fill their reserve before they have to keep their distance again. A last longing look before Timmy unlocks the door to the apartment. How would the kids react?

“We are back!” He announces toying off his shoes and throwing his jacket away. “Hey mom.” He kisses her cheek.

“Daddy!” Harper comes running for a moment forgetting her reservations. But then she starts pouting. “You took soooo long. You said you’d be back soon.” She pouts. 

Ford toddles over to them. His hands fist in Timmy’s pant leg. He’s seemingly just overwhelmed to see his dad again, looking up at him and starting to cry. Timmy takes the opportunity to pick him up and bring him closer to Armie.

 

Armie picks up Harper and kisses her cheek. "I know, I'm sorry, Hops. But we're back now," he offers, knowing any attempt at explanation would be a lie. He puts her down when Timmy walks over and she runs back to her toys. "Hi, Ford," he coos, leaning in and wrapping an arm tentatively around Timmy's back. He leans in and blows raspberries on Ford's cheeks, the little boy grabbing his hair and shirt. "Okay, okay," he relents, pulling back and taking him in his arms. He wanted to help him see comfort in Timmy, too, but maybe it's just too soon. He'd learn, Armie tells himself. He would learn Timmy can be safety, too.

 

Even if it hurt not to be accepted right away it’s understandable. And there’s just something about Armie handling the kids that warmed Timmy’s heart. He tries his best to entertain Ford a little and is happy that he at least doesn’t turn away. Baby steps. 

“Thanks, mom. I owe you.” He says to her. 

She shakes her head and lifts her hands in denial. “No, please. They were darlings.” She assures them but Timmy is not sure whether he can believe that.

 

"Still, we appreciate it," Armie says, though he can tell by her soft smile she really doesn't mind. It strikes him suddenly, emotionally, powerfully: making Timmy his family makes her his family, and Marc, and Pauline. Family could mean something completely different, it could mean so much more than it meant to him now. He watches her smooth Timmy's hair and he wonders if she'd do the same with him, and with his children. He swallows the overwhelming feeling and brings Ford over to the couch to sit with him so he can admire Timmy interacting in this space with his family and Armie's mixing together.

 

Timmy nods. His mother waves him a couple more times until Timmy told her to go back home and tell dad that the air is clear. She raises an eyebrow and Timmy feels his cheeks up despite himself. He’s sure she can read it all in his face. “Well...” he trails over. 

“I’ll leave you two to it.” She says and walks over to Armie sitting next to him for a moment and assuring him what wonderful children he has. Timmy watches it, satisfied. He’d smother Armie in love every day like that if he could.

 

Armie smiles as she leaves, content with his life here. "I think it's nap time," he says, rubbing Ford's back. Harper objects but he doesn't really care; he knows she needs to nap at some point. 

"Can I nap with you?" she asks, walking over to him. He sighs and pats her shoulder. This can't keep happening and he loves her to death, but all he wants is to do is curl up with Timmy and rest. 

"I don't think so, Hops. Not today," he tells her. 

"PLEASE," she whines. 

"Harper. You don't nap with me at home, you can't do it every time here either. We bought a bed just for you," he reminds her. She throws a mini tantrum, which only makes him more resolved. If she gets like this, he absolutely can't cave or she'll think it'll work every time. 

"I'm sorry but that's the rule, Harper. Today you have to nap on your own," he says, soft but firm.

 

Timmy admires the strength to tell her no. He knows he would likely cave and it’s only a question of time until she would find out. He better works on that before she does. 

Harper changes into her pyjamas reluctantly and crawls into her bed. She glares at Timmy who avoids her gaze. 

His limbs are heavy from-- _ former activities _ and he gladly sinks into the softness of their bed. He just wants to close his eyes for a moment, waiting for Armie to put Ford into bed, too but he doesn’t even notice him joining him.

 

Armie slips into bed and tucks himself against Timmy's back, his arms wrapping around him. He wants to enjoy this moment but he's exhausted and Timmy is warm and smells like him, which is far more heady than he anticipated and somehow quite soothing. He's asleep almost instantly, a deep sleep devoid of dreams. He probably wouldn't have even woken up if Ford hadn't started crying, to be honest. He buries his face closer to Timmy's neck and groans.

 

Timmy wakes to screaming and a tickle at his neck. Instinctually he draws his shoulders up and earns a chuckle, the hold on him only tightening. Timmy rolls around to avoid further attacks. “Want me to try?” He asks. He hopes perhaps Ford would get used to him as a person of comfort, too.

 

Armie presses his lips against Timmy's skin briefly and nods, letting his stubble scrape along his neck a little more. "Go for it," he says, even though he'll miss the weight of him against his body. He lifts an arm so Timmy can get up easier and rolls onto his stomach when Timmy leaves the bed, snuggling closer to where he was. He has the distinct feeling of sleep when there's a newborn in the house, of taking turns, of late nights. He's never really asked Timmy about kids, though he knows he always seemed to like the idea of them. He liked Armie's kids enough, but maybe he'd want his own, too. Armie turns his head to watch Timmy, noting that Harper had woken up at this point and didn't look terribly happy about her screaming brother. For what it's worth, she keeps quiet, though.

 

Timmy walks over to Ford’s crib and picks the screaming boy up. He smells his diapers but everything seems to be okay. It’s probably another clinginess attack, Timmy assumes and strokes his back, trying to soothe him. “Look your dad is over there. And you sister is there. And I’m here,” he tells him, starting to pace and humming softly. Occasionally he would repeat the soothing words. Ford is resistant but not resistant enough. Timmy bribes him with a cookie and has him in the end. Happy, he wraps his arms around the munching boy. “Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he asks and kisses his head.

 

Armie watches quietly, his eyes trained on Timmy. His whole world is here in this apartment. There's knowledge there that he needs to get up because they can't nap forever in this bed, even if he'd like nothing better. He swings his legs down and sits at the edge, thinking that's good enough for now. What he really wants is to walk over and wrap his arms around both of them and kiss Timmy, but he can't, and it  _ kills _ him. He needs to talk to Elizabeth; every day he can't show affection hurts more and more. 

Harper gets up and walks over to him, climbing onto the bed. "You never nap at home," she says, laying her head on his shoulder and pulling herself into his arms. He doesn't know what to say so he stays quiet, his eyes going between his son in Timmy's arms to Harper in his.

 

Timmy turns around to look at Armie wanting to show off his accomplishment. He finds Armie looking between them and Harper on his lap and feels warm. “Looks like a good start, don’t you think?” he asks. There are a couple of things they need to do this afternoon. Looking for a hotel room is certainly a priority. Timmy also needs to do some reading and he isn’t sure what Armie had to do in preparation for his play. They aren’t going to get bored, that’s for sure.

 

They fall into a routine, Harper playing with toys, Ford as well; Timmy with his legs tucked up on the couch with his reading; Armie with his laptop out a safe distance on the couch, skimming emails and stealing glances at the rest of them. It's comfortable and he can absolutely get used to it.

 

They eat pie that his mom had left and enjoy the calm atmosphere between them. That is of course, until Armie’s phone rings. At first Timmy doesn’t think anything of it. He stands up naturally to get it for him. When he reads the name, though, his stomach turns. He walks over to Armie and shoots him a sympathetic look.

 

Armie knows he can't avoid this anymore, so he takes the phone and answers. He walks away from them, touching Timmy's shoulder as he goes. The call is silent until he hears the click of the door after leaving the apartment; he says hello, a bit defeated. "How are the kids?" she asks without greeting him. 

"They're good. Just woke up from a nap, actually." An awkward silence hangs over them momentarily; he's not about to offer up his whereabouts from that morning. "I think I have to tell Harper something, Elizabeth," he says softly. "She's... I think she knows something happened, and to be honest I'm terrified she'll ask me before we have this conversation so I'd appreciate it if we could...I don't know. Talk, I guess. For a minute. About this. Specifically what to tell her." His heart is beating wildly in his chest but he needs this, Timmy needs this, they  _ all _ need it. Especially after this morning, he wants nothing more than to offer Harper some clarity so he can finally start showing a little affection with Timmy, and she can start to process what's sure to be a confusing time for her.

 

Elizabeth frowned turning her freshly painted nails and admiring them. “What’s there to talk about? There’s nothing definite until the two weeks are over. That’s what you  _ agreed _ on or do I need to remind you?” She asks and crosses her legs. “If you can’t keep it in your pants get a hotel room.” She says smugly. At least that is working out. She’s not ready to let him go to just cheat on her all he wants. This gives her some sort of control which is comforting. At least she got to have that. It’s hard to realise that not having him around would be the new normal. They may not have spend a ton of time together, not in the sense that they did something with each other for each other. They were usually both working on something on the side. Even if it was just being on their phones during a date night. Bitter, she realises he could’ve been texting Timmy the whole time while she was distracted.

 

"Elizabeth," he sighs, a hand running over his face. He's frustrated and he wants her to understand how serious he is, how resolved. "We are. I'm getting one tonight, after I talk to you. He lives in a studio, Elizabeth. And we sleep in the same bed. She's noticing and if she asks I need to know what you're comfortable with me saying. She's  _ going _ to ask." He doesn't want to beat around the bush anymore--its exhausted him for years, pretending he's okay with what she wants, staying quiet.

 

“Well, it’s not like anyone asked you to share with him in the first place. You’re married. Period.” She smiled triumphantly, thinking about them fighting because the kids got into the way. She doesn’t want them harmed but she’s convinced Timmy went into this blind. That boy is barely older than a teenager. How is he supposed to handle two kids? Surely he expected more freedom. Besides lovesick Armie could be overbearing and clingy and suddenly it feels like you have three children instead of two. “It’s not gonna be an issue now that you move out now, right? I think it’s best if you leave some distance between you anyway. How about you care about them first before worrying about fucking your little boyfriend?” She asks cynically.

 

"Not an issue? You-- oh, Elizabeth. Seriously? You think that I'm...going to a hotel...without him..." He rolls his eyes and starts pacing; surely she isn't this blind. "Okay, let me break this down in very simple terms for you. I'm in love with him. I don't want to be in his city if I'm not sleeping next to him. We recognize that the kids seeing us sleep together every night is raising some questions, even if it's completely innocent around them. So we're getting. A hotel. For privacy. A suite. The kids will have their own room and they won't see us sleep next to each other. Do you understand? I want to make it clear that I'll still be sleeping in a bed, with him, regardless of where we are. Because I love  _ him _ and I want to be with  _ him. _ " He doesn't want to hurt her but he's also pretty sure if he isn't brutally honest this will only get worse. Besides, she had to know this was happening-- Harper even mentioned it the day they got here.

 

Elizabeth freezes and suddenly the room seems colder. She drops her hand with her painted nails and stares at the wall. “Oh,” is all she manages for a moment. “And- what do you want me to do now?” She asks and perhaps it sounds like she’s pouting but she doesn’t care. “It is what it is. You’re sleeping with a boy while being married to me. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to learn the principle of cheating from you.” She doesn’t want to care so much. She wants to be able to just let him go and find new ways to be happy, but it’s not that easy. Just because he has moved on doesn’t mean she automatically has as well. “You’re going to let me speak with them every day and don’t for a second think about telling them I don’t love them or that it’s because of them! Do you hear me?!” Panic rises in her suddenly at the thought. Suddenly she feels very much how little control she truly has.

 

He almost asks if the "boy" part of this bothers her or the cheating, but he knows that's not a productive line of questioning at all. "I tell them that every day. Believe it or not, I don't want them doubting that any more than you do. It doesn't help me at all for them to think you don't love them." He grows quiet thinking about it. Was that really what she worried about? Is that how far they'd come? That she thinks he would let the kids think that? It hurts, maybe she doesn't know him at all. "They can call you whenever, I'll make sure they know. What I want is just... I don't know what I want from you." He's quiet, heart slowing and breaking. "Permission I guess, which is insane considering." He swallows. " I want to tell her I like him, Elizabeth. And I want it to be okay."

 

“No.” It’s instinctual, comes out immediately. Letting her know would make it feel so real, too real. She already knows too much. “No, Armie,” she repeats, her mind racing frantically to find an excuse. “Please.” He could tell her anyway. It’s out of pure politeness that he’s calling at all. She used to know him better; she didn’t have to worry about him going against her decisions like that before. “Give it just a bit more time. Armie, please.” she begs and she hates it but it’s the only thing she can think of doing and she knows he knows that she hates it. So perhaps that would make him show mercy on her.

 

He isn't sure why this is having such a strong effect on him. Perhaps it's the fact that he can't see her or read her expression. He hears desperation in her voice and even after everything, it still hurts his heart. "I'm sorry," He says. "But my feelings aren't going to change. I know you hate this, but I... Elizabeth..." He gets choked up, his eyes drifting towards the apartment door. "He's a part of me. Denying that is... it's killing me. I... Everytime I accidentally touch his arm in front of them I worry, and I've spent so many years worrying about other people seeing me. Please don't make me keep this from her." He's selfish for wanting this, he knows. But she's not the only one who’s desperate.

 

She hates him and his stupid voice and his stupid openness all of a sudden. At least she wants to hate it. “You’re right. You waited years. What’s a week more?” she snapped and ended the call, afraid hearing more from him would make her cave. She doesn’t think he’ll tell her without her permission. Not after begging her like that. She wants to believe it with everything she has. Angrily she throws the phone away hating that she even called in the first place. She does immediately scramble after it and check if it’s okay but she’s still upset.

 

Armie sits stunned, his phone in his hand falling into his lap. He hadn't expected that--he'd expected anger maybe, frustration even. He hadn't expected her to end it and ignore him, but walking away figuratively may be her only way to hide from this conversation. He understands in a way, but it disappoints him all the same. He feels a little defeated, a little anxious at her blatant refusal to talk about this. He goes to the door and takes a deep breath to steady himself before re-entering the apartment with a pasted on smile to fool his kids.

 

When Armie comes into the room Harper is looking into a book, trying to read words but pretty much just making them up as she goes. It makes Timmy laugh, then abruptly stop when Armie comes in. He’s nervous to hear what she said. Armie smiles, his eyes searching out the kids immediately, but something is off. Timmy needs to take a closer look, make sure he’s okay. He knows they can’t talk right now but he suspects the talk didn’t go smoothly. 

“Come here and tell your daughter smirlivoff is not a word.” He says and begs him closer. 

 

Armie walks towards them, his hand coming to rest on Harper's head as he sits down. She's pulled into his arms and he tries to ground himself, but he doesn't feel well. He hates everything driving them apart and all he wants is to be happy and enjoy this. "Read it to me again," He says, kissing the top of her head. He can't look at Timmy, he knows he'll see right through him and he can't bring himself to worry him now when they can't talk.

 

Timmy turns to look at him while Harper points to the page, her index finger following the line. She starts making up new words which sound entirely different. But Timmy is too focused on the set of Armie’s jaw and the hardened expression in his eyes. His heart clenches in his chest and reminds himself what they’ve sworn earlier today.  _ Never doubt his love, _ he tells himself, but it’s hard.

 

Armie feels himself shattering as she reads; all he can think is,  _ I can't lose them _ . Logically he knows she wouldn't take them away but it terrifies him just to consider it, even in passing. Timmy means everything to him, though. They could get through it together. He lets his hand slip from Harper to seek out Timmy, eyes still cast away. He touches his leg and sighs slightly, letting the back of his knuckles press against the side of his leg to keep some discreet contact. It frustrates him though to do this, to not be able to hold him freely. One day, he tells himself. One day he'll be able to.

 

The discreet touch tells Timmy pretty much all he needs to know. Their situation hadn’t changed. They are still bound to play hide and seek. He had hoped for something. Anything little. He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t care when he interrupts Harper and talks over her to Armie. “Did you book the hotel room already?” he asks with pleading eyes. It’s the only thing he can think of that would cheer him up right now. At least they would be able to have it behind locked doors.

 

Armie glances over at his voice, his shoulders falling. He shakes his head. "I'll do it in a second, I need to breathe for a minute," he says quietly. He helps Harper read for a few pages and starts to get anxious. Maybe calling would help. He lifts her off his lap and puts her closer to Timmy and tells her he'll be back in a minute before walking away towards the kitchen table. Turning his back on them, he pulls his phone out and finds the number for the hotel he was thinking of. It only takes a minute and he's got a reservation, his nerves subsiding a little.

 

Timmy watches him from where he sits, trying to make out if this time he was having more luck. Harper squirms on his lap, sprawling all over. Her doubts seem to be forgotten for the moment as she toys with Timmy’s shirt. 

He manages to catch Armie’s eye when he turns and shoots him a thumbs up. That, at least, they managed. He lets out a deep breath already looking forward to talk to Armie about it all later.

 

"I got us an early check in if we want it. We could go in about in hour," He says, looking at his watch. There's a lightness now, and he's still hating the situation but it's a little better with this to look forward to. He rests his hand on Timmy's shoulder and lets out a breath. "Hops, we're going to go to a nice hotel tonight!" he says, trying to get her excited instead of concerned. He pauses when he really looks down for the first time, how she was so comfortable with Timmy, his hand resting on her back. It's beautiful, he's pretty sure it stitches him together, this little moment of domesticity. His little family. He smiles for real this time, letting his hand trail from Timmy's shoulder to the nape of his neck.

 

Timmy closes his eyes and leans into the touch letting the levity of it all consume him. A hotel room isn’t ideal. He still hates to know Armie will be paying most of it and it feels a little like admitting defeat, which is stupid but he had really thought it would be easier. He’s underestimated the strain he realises and recalls Luca’s words. As long as they help each other through it they would be fine. He wants to believe nothing more. 

He can feel Harper sitting up in his lap and squints to watch what she’s doing. “But why daddy?” she asks curiously. Of course, she’s at  _ that _ phase.

 

"So we have more room," he tells her, leaning down to tickle her sides, using it as an excuse to get closer to Timmy. "It's crowded in here, kiddo. Besides, you  _ love _ hotels," he reminds her, draping his arm over Timmy, his chin resting on his shoulder.  His heart is racing and he knows this is not what Elizabeth would want but it feels  _ right _ and he doesn't want to deny it, especially because it's pretty innocent.

 

Harper giggles and fights his hand off half-heartedly. “Is Timmy coming with us?” She asks. 

He suddenly wishes he could make out what answer she would like to get but Armie’s head on his shoulder calms him enough to just say what’s true anyway. “Yes, I am.” He tells her leaning his head slightly against Armie’s feeling his heart jump at the contact. It’s so simple and yet it makes him feel utterly alive. He’d only have to turn his head to kiss him but no, he had to be patient.

 

Armie leans against him for another moment before pulling away, seeing Ford running over towards them, jealous of the attention. He catches him and resolves to start packing bags. It isn't lost on him that his daughter continues to stay by Timmy's side, pleased with his answer. It brings more comfort than he anticipated to see her take to him so strongly. He grabs the kids' suitcase and starts grabbing some things while holding Ford, smiling as he grabs things.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harper Harper Harper...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for another late update! but um,.. well ill just give you this lol

Timmy realises he has to pack his own stuff as well if they want to check in soon.  Then things go quickly. They hurry about to get their things together with the kids glued to them. Before Timmy realises it he’s on his way to the hotel. Since Harper is mild with him today he has her, and Armie is looking out for Ford. The idea of being able to close the door and kiss him sometime soon makes the blood pump faster through his veins and he shares an excited look with Armie.

 

Armie knows enough by now to know this hotel has a secondary entrance, so he takes them there for discretion. He nearly thanks God for his kids behaving, and then they're in an elevator, and then, finally, in front of a door as Armie shuffles Ford on his hip to unlock it. Harper runs inside, finds a bed, and promptly climbs on top. "Shoes, Hops!" he shouts, turning a corner to watch her to ensure she takes them off before jumping. He lets her, why not? It's a small thing and she never does it for very long before growing tired of it. He puts Ford down and turns to smile at Timmy. It feels really good to have this space for real, and he hopes it'll help them actually get to talk and be together more than they're currently allowed.

 

The first thing that comes to Timmy’s mind is that it’s way too big. Ford touches the wall to keep upright and goes to investigate while Timmy turns to Armie. “This is- it’s too much.” He gestures around them. “No, Armie, I can’t possibly-“ He makes another helpless gesture. He can’t expect Armie to do this for him. He feels lost in the grand entrance of the suite already.

 

"Stop, I stay here a lot so they always upgrade me. Seriously, don't worry about it." He touches his arm and gestures towards their room. He starts walking and picks up Ford as he goes to move him somewhere a little safer. When he's in their room, he drops his bag and turns to wait for Timmy. "We should get them some dinner soon, they'll probably go to sleep pretty easily. They usually do with a lot of commotion during the day."

 

Timmy nods and drops his bag next to his. “Alright. Room service I guess?” He can’t help letting his eyes flicker to the door. Never before had he appreciated a piece of simple furniture before like that. There’s a gravity pulling him to Armie so he makes the conscious decision to walk in

the other direction and let himself fall onto the bed, already dreaming about kissing him here later tonight.

 

Armie watches, a slow smile growing on his face. The kids are playing in the other room--he can hear them still. Timmy sprawls out, giving him ideas. "You're teasing me," he says softly, smiling at him as he leans against a wall. He doesn't particularly mind, though. In fact, he's relieved to have him lay there and be able to watch him without worrying about Harper seeing every move.

 

Timmy lifts his head and looks at Armie. Looks at him looking at him. “Maybe you’re just letting me.” He kicks his shoes off and wiggles down a bit until he can plant his foot on Armie’s stomach, holding his gaze steadily. It’s easy to wiggle his toes and let Armie’s shirt ride up a little, revealing just a tiny bit of skin.

 

"You bastard," he laughs, grabbing his foot. He turns his fingers around his ankle and squeezes lightly. "Don't start something you can't finish," he says. He lets his hand wander up the inside of his leg and adds, "Or be prepared to deal with the consequences. Don't forget, you're not the only one who can play this game." He squeezes his inner thigh for emphasis and withdraws his touch.

 

Timmy lets out a light chuckle and lets his leg drop back down. “Of course. Of course, I won’t.” They hear a happy shriek from the next room and exchange a look. “I’ll catch you later, tiger.” Timmy says with a sigh and stands up. But he’s not leaving without teasing him one more time. He corners him against the wall briefly, putting a hand on his chest and letting it run down teasingly.

 

Armie lets him even though he knows he might regret it. When Timmy stops right above his jeans, he can't help the muscles there from clenching. He usually liked doing the teasing more, but this is kind of nice, he has to admit. "Now you're just being mean," he says, his voice low, his eyes trained on Timmy's hand.

 

Timmy smirks and lets his hand wander back up his chest. He loves the easy dynamic they’ve developed in here already. The slight quirk at the corner of Armie’s lips tells him he doesn’t mind it particularly. “Maybe. But I’ll promise to make up for it.” He leans ever closer, taking advantage of Armie slumping against the wall to press a kiss a to his lips. He can feel his hand on his hips immediately holding and steadying him.

 

Armie kisses him for a moment, gently biting and tugging his lip as he pulls back, his fingers snaking under his shirt to hook in the top of his pants. He pulls him closer as if he's going to kiss him, then pushes him back gently with a smirk, stuffing his hand into his pockets and straightening his stance. He's decided bewildered, taken aback Timmy is one of his new favorite looks.

 

When Timmy manages to collect his jaw off the floor he pouts and turns his back on him going to check on the kids. Harper immediately demands him to unpack her backpack, but Timmy tells her he would help her if she needed him but he would rather unpack Ford’s stuff since he can’t do that himself. He gives the boy his wooden train so he can play with it while Harper and Timmy unpack.

 

Armie helps where he's needed, but also likes how Timmy's taken the reins, so he lets him. Instead, he seeks out the room service menu and starts jotting down what they need to order so he can call. "Hey Tim, what do you want?" he asks. walking over to him with a menu and sitting down next to him. Harper brings a book over for him to read but he focuses on the task at hand first, though he lets her sit with him. "Hang on, we're ordering dinner, Harper," he tells her.

 

“I think I’ll take that one.” Timmy says after a moment of contemplation. “And perhaps chocolate mousse as a dessert.” He starts salivating only by thinking about it.

“Alright can we get to the book now?!” Harper asks impatiently.

“You will be able to wait for another five minutes. Your dad is going to order and then he can read to you. Be patient, darling,” he tells her and runs a hand through her hair.

 

Armie orders quickly, tacking on two orders of the chocolate mousse just in case. Ford is tugging at his pants as he hangs up, so he picks him up as he walks back. "Hops, do you want to read first or call Mom first? Dinner will be here soon." She thinks for a minute and pushes the book at him, pulling her hair behind her ears with the back of her hand as she stands on the couch.

"Can we call later?" she asks, swaying slightly.

"We can," he tells her, though he wants to make sure it happens now that he knows Elizabeth thinks he's telling them she doesn't care. "But we have to call before bed." She nods and points at the book. "Okay, okay, story time. I get it," he relents, sitting down with Ford to read to them. He doesn't look to see Timmy's expression about the call-- at least this time, he could go into another room and ignore it instead of hiding in the bathroom.

 

After her apparently denying Armie’s request Timmy is scared what she would say to the children. She could make them hate him easily and he’s sure she knows that, too. And he understands it. She probably feels like he’s taking them away from her. It makes him feel sick to think he’s breaking up this family and he knows that is what the public would see. Armie exchanging Elizabeth who’s older than him for a “younger model”.

He curls next to them and lets Armie’s voice wash over him and soothe him. When the room service knocks at their door Timmy gets it, only now noticing how hungry he really is.

 

They eat without too much excitement, Ford being the only one who makes much noise or protest. Armie is in hotels a lot for press after movies, so he takes this as a sort of trial run for later. It would be nice to have Timmy by his side for these things soon, he thinks, but it also worries him a little just thinking about what people would say. He really doesn't want them or anyone to ruin this. When Ford is done, Armie cleans him up and takes him to get changed and dressed in the other room, trying to enjoy his sweet clinginess instead of worry about it.

 

Timmy stacks their dishes before joining Harper on the couch. He feels a little awkward since he knows that her judgment matters but he doesn’t want to try too hard. She doesn’t even know how much he truly loves Armie. “Do you like New York, Hops?” he asks her.

 

"It's loud," she says, shrugging. Her legs cross and she leans over onto his arm with a dramatic sigh. "I like it." She couldn't possibly know the weight his question holds, but she understands she is supposed to like it. "The buildings are big!" This, she thinks, is a pretty great thing about the city. Like she's in some story book and got shrunk under all these towering forms. "I liked your house," she says, looking up at him. And it's true-- she liked how little and warm it was. It felt special there, even if she didn't understand or even know to ask why. "And Nicole! And um... and Marc!" she smiles.

 

“I’m glad you like them,” Timmy tells her and wraps and arm around her. She can’t know what a role they would play later on. A role Timmy hopes they’d be able to play. But when do these things ever go smoothly? He sighs. “I grew up here and I love it, too,” he explains to her. “Even if the weather isn’t as sunny.” He compares it to what she must know from LA. “Remember when I was visiting you and went outside without putting sunscreen on?” he asks her. These memories seemed safe for her while Timmy remembers all of them tinged with a longing.

 

She giggles and nods, poking his arms. "You got so red!" she teases. "Daddy helped you with the uh, the burn stuff. Aloe!" she remembers, pushing her hair back out of her face.

Armie walks into the room, sees them chatting, and pauses at the door frame so as not to disturb them. Ford's quiet in his arms, already snuggly and tired from the day. It warms his heart to watch Timmy be so casually engaged with his daughter, as if this really is the new normal. He hopes it is.

 

Timmy blushes remembering that spectacle. He wonders now how Armie had managed to be so casual about it while Timmy had felt like he was dying. The cool lotion being spread over his burns by Armie’s fingers, which he’d longed to have on his skin... it had been a sweet torture. “Yes, I remember.” He looks up and sees Armie with Ford snuggled into his arms. “That means it’s time to get ready for bed for you now, sweetheart,” he tells her pinching her side.

 

The memory is strong for Armie--well, he'd been so flustered afterward he’d had to take a walk. He wonders if Timmy even knew that. But he doesn't dwell long, as he smirks, knowing before it happens that Harper's not about getting ready for bed tonight. It'll be a challenge for Timmy if he does it alone. He's intrigued to see what will happen, if he'll need to step in or not. She usually just tests the resolve of whoever tries to get her ready and then eventually acquiesces. "Hmm... How about we read!" she says, running over to her book and grabbing it for him. "You do it." Her hands push it into his lap as she climbs back up onto the couch.

 

Timmy looks up at Armie for a moment, it’s an instinctual reaction. His opinion comes first in the education of them. But since he doesn’t react he takes it a Armie giving him the opportunity to prove himself. “We already had story time earlier, Hops. It’s time to change into your pyjamas.” He puts the book on the table and stands up extending his hand to indicate her to follow.

 

She looks at his hand and then back at Armie. "You said we're calling Mommy!" she says, staring at him. Armie sighs but stays where he is. His heart beats a little faster but he thinks he's ready to start doing this with Timmy for real.

"Harper, Timmy told you it's time to get ready for bed. We have to listen to him. We can call Momma after you get ready, okay?"

"Dad," she fake cries. He hides a smile and shakes his head which only makes her cross her arms and look at Timmy. "Okaaaayyyy," she draws out, but doesn't make any move to follow him.

 

Timmy rolls his eyes at her and swoops her up. She’s light enough that he can throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the bathroom. He’s not sure if she realised the gravity of Armie telling her that she has to listen to him. It feels weird to have it laid out like that.

He puts her back down in the bathroom. “The sooner you start, the sooner you are finished.” He tells her.

 

She brushes her teeth but only reluctantly. By the time she's done, she's a little more willing to follow him around, though, so that helps. "You pick my pajamas," she tells him, getting on the floor and pushing her suitcase towards him before sitting with her legs crossed and expectant eyes. "Are you gonna talk to Mommy, too?" she asks a beat later.

 

Timmy looks through the pyjamas and chooses the one he deems most comfortable and hands it to her. “Take this one.” He tells her and closes her suitcase to push it to the side again. Perhaps she would just drop the subject? But no such luck. She asks him again and he shakes his head. “No. She’s your mommy. Why should I talk to her?” He’s not sure what the rules are here. What he can say and what he can’t. “She calls to speak to you.” He taps her nose hoping it would distract her.

 

Harper watches him for a minute, thinking over his words. Shrugging, she stands and starts getting changed. "Dad calls you lots," she says. "Why?" She topples over trying to get her clothes on and giggles. She's joined Armie's calls to Timmy in occasion, but she was aware it happened even more often than that.

 

Timmy has to laugh as she wiggles on the floor trying to get the clothes on again. “He misses me and I miss him. So we call each other.” He explains and shrugs. There’s really nothing terrible about it. “And I get to talk to you and you two can tell me what you did all day.” He adds. “It makes me miss him less.” He helps her stand up.

 

“He misses you, too." She walks away as if it means nothing, because in her mind it doesn't. It's just a normal fact. She turns around when she reaches the door and looks at him for a moment before running back over and giving him a hug, her arms tight around him neck. "I like New York," she tells him, and then runs out to the other room towards her dad.

"Hey, Hops! Teeth brushed?" Armie asks when she tackles him.

"Yes, look! Timmy helped me," she says, smiling wide for him to check.

Timmy just kneels there for a moment trying to take in what she said while thinking nothing of it. Would she like staying here, too? He wonders and stands up following her to see father and daughter wrapped up on the couch. He can hear Armie approve of her teeth and sits down next to him letting their closeness fill him with warmth. The days of missing each other and uncertainty are over now. He wants to kiss him very, very badly and knowing that he soon can makes him excited. He leans into his shoulder slightly sharing his want to be closer.

 

Armie smiles at him and presses his leg against his. "Hey, Tim, we're gonna call her," he says softly, looking at him. "If you want to go? I have to stay and hold the phone." He lets his hand go to his arm and squeezes lightly-- it's as close as he can get to holding his hand. He'd ask him to stay but even he isn't that selfish.

"Timmy staaayyyy," Harper says, diving off Armie to lay across both of their laps. She looks up at him with big pleading eyes.

"Harper... He doesn't need to stay for this. Mom only wants to talk to you, come on," he says, pulling her back towards him. He doesn't want Timmy to feel pressure. Though, he must admit, it feels pretty good to have her be so attached.

 

Timmy shrugs. He’s not sure how well he would actually handle seeing Elizabeth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, darling. Let me take a shower in the meantime,” he tells her. “Maybe I’ll join when I’m done.” He tells her to cheer her up while he stands up and then walks to the bathroom.

 

Armie watches him to and tries to quiet Harper when she turns to him and complains about Timmy leaving. He gets the kids together and texts Elizabeth to see if she's available, then calls her and lets the kids talk. He doesn't say anything unless he's directly asked and even then, he can't bring himself to really look at her. Not when her words are still in his head and Timmy is hiding from the situation out of self preservation.

 

Timmy pulls on a loose shirt and a pair of thin sweatpants before walking into the living room. They are still on the phone so he runs a hand through his wet hair. It had been Harper’s wish for him to join them and she’s not exactly been nice to them so he figures it’s okay to walk over and settles next to Armie with a soft smile on his face, hoping it would cheer him up.

 

Armie freezes, watches her smile shift and her head tilt to the side. "Timmy," he mutters, almost a question, his eyes darting over for a moment. Elizabeth falters in what she was saying but puts on a good show for the kids.

"TIMMMMY!" Harper sings, swaying towards him to rest her head against his arm fondly. Armie knows this isn't good-- he can't bring himself to look at either of them, focusing instead on Ford who continues babbling at Elizabeth.

 

Timmy holds her close, for a second not caring what she thinks as long as Harper is laughing and happy. Her excitement to have him around still reassures him. “I’m here,” he tells her before looking up at Armie who’s pointedly not looking at anyone. He’s suddenly sorry to have put such pressure on him. He can’t back out either though because Harper is happy to finally have him here. For her, he’s just another person that can make her happy. She doesn’t understand the differences. The fine nuances of human communication. He feels stupid to not address the elephant in the room then and looks at Elizabeth. “Hi.” He says simply.

 

"Hello," she says politely before turning her attention back to the children. "What are you doing tomorrow, Hopsy?"

"The zoo! Timmy, can we go to the zoo?" Armie looks over then, concerned about the attention he's getting.

"Harper, I don't know if we're doing that just yet," he says, trying to pull her conversation away from Timmy, knowing it wouldn't help anything.

"I want to go!! Mommy, can we go to the zoo?" Armie groans a little and reaches around her to touch Timmy's arm. He's slipping, and so is the conversation.

"Harper please, don't shout. We'll still go to the zoo but it might not be tomorrow."

"Why not tomorrow, Armie?" Elizabeth asks. "Your daughter wants to go tomorrow, why won't you take her? More important things to do?" Her gaze flicks to Timmy and he has to bite his tongue.

 

Timmy hates her in that moment. He just wants to say it. Here and now. “We can go if you’re okay with it, Elizabeth.” He states. They are hesitating to protect her but if she passed it off for such a low blow then Timmy doesn’t see why they should wait. He scoots a little closer to Armie with Harper on his lap now. It’s a challenge. “Are you?” He asks. His hand fists into Armie’s shirt trying to ground them both.

 

Armie knows he's challenging her but doesn't feel like stopping him. A part of him even wants to encourage it because he doesn't feel comfortable doing it himself yet. "Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice is tight and Armie sees through it immediately.

"I know how you feel about paparazzi," he says. She looks at him and narrows her gaze.

"Papa- what?" Harper asks, looking up at him.

"The people who take our pictures," he tells her. "If you're okay with that, we'll go," he says, looking back at Elizabeth. He gains strength from Timmy's grip and boldness, feeling himself reflect it back.

 

Elizabeth looks at them. They’re like a unit now. Armie is stronger than ever with him and it shows. She wonders if he’d ever looked like that next to her. There’s no breaking their resolve. Not like this anyway. “Look out for the kids,” she requests. It’s the only thing she can care about after going out on a whim like that. “But fine, go to the zoo.” She allows.

 

"Yay!" Harper says with a big smile, patting both Armie's and Timmy's legs.

"Thank you," Armie says sincerely. He knows asking in front of the kids would make it harder for her to say no, but he knew she still could have refused support. Not that this is really support she's offering, it's more like a reluctant acceptance of fate.

 

Timmy leans closer to him feeling grateful because he knows how important this is for them and the kids. “The zoo it is. That means we all have to sleep because we have to get up early.” He explains.

“Yes. I’m meeting up with Janine anyway. Sleep well, my babes. Mommy loves you.” She blows a kiss into the camera before abruptly ending the call. Seeing Timmy act so naturally as a parent figure around them already hurts in ways she hadn’t thought were possible.

 

"Okay, you heard Mom," Armie says, slightly off balance with her abrupt ending. With Timmy's help, he gets them into bed without much issue, though he suspects the promise of the zoo helps. They shut the door after turning out the lights and Armie pauses to lean against the wall and smile at Timmy. "I love you," he says, reaching for his hand. "Thanks for the help today, sorry she was weird."

 

Timmy shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry I just challenged her. We should’ve talked. I put you under pressure. Maybe tomorrow is too early to go out and be seen. I don’t know.” He moves forward and falls into Armie’s arms welcoming the comfort willingly. “I love you, too.” He mumbles hugging him tight.

 

Armie kisses his neck and sighs deeply, his arms looping loosely around his waist. "No more talking ever. It only makes things complicated," he mumbles, nuzzling closer and nipping at his neck. "Thank you for sitting with us. I know it was awkward but I'm glad you were there," he tells him quietly, stuffing his hands into Timmy's back pockets and resting his chin on his shoulder with a small smile.

 

Timmy smiles and kisses along his neck. “I’m just scared to do the wrong thing,” he explains and reaches his jawline. “Let me kiss you,” he pleads and nips at the skin, tongue darting out to soothe. Armie lets him thankfully and indulges in the union of their mouths. They’re both caught up, heads already in the clouds and imagining their closed door down the hall and what they might do behind it. They don’t hear the door. How could they? They don’t expect anyone to use it anymore.

“Daddy? Timmy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're getting more sunday okay!!!!! i promise!!!!!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here you go! It's a little short, but I may do a mid week update.  
> -L

Armie stands frozen for half a second, his chest heaving. "Harper, it's bedtime. Let's go back—"

"Why were you kissing Timmy?" she asks, looking between them curiously.  

"I... uh... I was—Timmy just—um..." He shakes his head a little, lost and terrified. He'd fucked up. How had he managed to make it through a studio without getting caught, but then gets caught the first fucking night when he has a room to hide in? _Fuck._ "Harper, I just..." What's the benefit of lying? Would she even believe him? Or would she figure it out regardless?

"You kiss Mommy," she says, folding her arms.

"I...do," he says slowly, looking at Timmy apologetically with a shrug. "Listen, kiddo. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"Are you gonna kiss again?" God, he couldn't catch a break.

 

Timmy feels his face burn hot. He wants to tell her the truth. He doesn’t want to say it doesn’t mean anything because it does and he wishes she would finally know. They’ll have to tell her sooner or later and when she finds out he doesn’t want her to call them liars.

He hugs himself and turns to look at Armie. They are arguing with their eyes for a moment but they need words for this. “Let me talk to your dad for a moment. Then we are going to answer you your questions, okay?” He asks softly and wants to put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugs it off.

“So you are going to kiss again!” She says angrily.

It’s confusing for her so Timmy tries not to take it personally. “Please Harper...” He begs.

“No.” She sounds angry.

Timmy looks up at Armie helplessly. “I don’t want her to call us liars.” He says. He knows his opinion isn’t exactly crucial, but he wants Armie to consider it at least.

 

Armie stares back and sees the pain in his eyes, the frustration, the desperation. "You think I do?"

"Dad!" she shouts, but he's still looking at Timmy.

"Okay. Okay." He crouches down next to her and breaks a little like glass when she glares and shifts to avoid his touch. "Tim, can you give us a minute?" he asks, glancing up at him. He might cry, he's so worried and still shaking from the shock of her finding them. "Please," he begs. "She can talk to you after if she wants."

"Only Moms and Dads kiss," Harper says bitterly. "Mommy said! Only moms and dads!"

"Okay, well that's not..." Armie has to stop himself from making this worse. "Harper. Sometimes before people are moms and dads they kiss."

"Mommy said when people love each other," she says, staring at him like a challenge.

"Yes... people who love each other can kiss." His heart is racing out of his chest and he kind of feels like dying.

 

Timmy doesn’t want to leave them. He doesn’t want to burden Armie with all this, but his presence wouldn’t make anything better. He stumbles back into their bedroom. Suddenly the walls seem to close in and he can feel his breathing growing wracked.

 

“But- but you love mommy. She said there’s only one person you can love. And Timmy is not a mommy either.” She seems frantic, her world falling apart. She has her plush mouse pressed to her chest tightly like it’s the only thing that grounds her.

 

Armie tries to pull her to his chest and she allows it, almost reluctantly. "Harper, Mom and I love you so much. We love you and Ford more than we love anything else in the entire world. We love you so much that want you to be so happy. Like the zoo, we do things like that because we love you so much. But Mom and I don't..." He takes a deep breath and knows this is it. She didn't want them to know but what choice did he have now? Would Harper even understand? "Sometimes Moms and Dads don't want to live together anymore because they don't love each other. Mom-"

"You don't love Mommy?" Tears well up in her eyes and she pushes at his chest to get away.

"Harper...." He worries he won't be able to stop himself from crying either. "Not like that, sweetie. But I love you so much, and Mommy loves you and misses you so so so much. Mommy wants you to know she loves you and this has nothing to do with how much we love you."

"Then why?" she cries.

"Hops, I... I don't know honey. Sometimes people stop loving each other." She runs away from him towards the main bedroom of the suite. "Harper!"

"No!" she yells, pushing the door open. "Is Daddy gonna stop loving me?" she asks Timmy when the door opens, tears rushing down her face.

 

Timmy is struggling to breathe when she opens the door and is suddenly there, shaken to the core. Armie stopping loving her? It is ridiculous because _that_ is something he’s undeniably certain of. Not their love though, which had been tortured by complications from the start. He shakes his head. “No, no, never.” He says and it sounds ragged and he’s still wheezing from not getting enough air into his lungs. “He will never stop loving you or Ford, Hops. You're his everything,” he explains and knows at the same time how true it is, how Armie's first priority would always be the kids and he loves him for that, too. But he also knows that if their relationship would hurt the kids, Armie would have no qualms to end it. “Never.” He repeats.

 

Harper doesn't trust his answer but by the time he's finished, Armie has made it to the room as well. He can see the panic attack on Timmy's face and he wants to calm him down but he knows he can't right now. Everything is falling apart and he can't seem to grasp enough of his life to keep it together. "Harper, I will always love you and Ford the most. That love will never change."

"But you don't love Mommy!" she cries.

"Okay, let's start over. Mom and I aren't sure if we want to be married, but we know for sure that we want to be with you kids. It’s complicated. We're figuring it out, but we know that we all want to be with you kids still because we love you guys so much."

"Do you love Timmy?" she asks point blank, taking his breath away. How is he supposed to lie?

"Yes," he confesses.

"He's a boy," she sounds panicked and this time lets him hold her.

"Yes, he is. Boys can love boys and girls can love girls, Harper. We've talked about this before, remember?" She nods. "We can talk to Mommy tomorrow about this if you want, Harper," he says, rubbing her back.

 

Timmy knows he shouldn’t feel guilty and Armie has assured him time and again that the divorce had been something happening anyway. But seeing her distress now makes it awfully real and loads him with guilt. He realises he’s shaking and that can’t be helpful. It’s bad enough as it is. Timmy knows what’s happening and tries to force the attack down but it’s difficult to stay in control when he can’t breathe. He manages to stumble over to the bed and tries to take deep breaths, a hand pressed to his chest.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with him?” Harper asks turning her head to look at him but Timmy is squeezing his eyes shut, can’t bear to see the tear tracks down her cheeks.

 

Armie goes to him now, saying, "Harper, he's not feeling well. I need to make sure he can breathe okay? You can stay there if you want or you can go back to bed." He presses a hand against Timmy's cheek and his other on his chest to pull his hand away and onto his own heart. "Hey, breathe. It's okay, I'm here. Breathe," he says, his thumb swiping over his cheekbone. "Nothing’s changed, Timmy. Nothing, okay? I'm not going anywhere." He sits up on the bed and pulls Timmy into his chest to hold him tighter.

 

Timmy is still shaking but he knows he has to allow Armie to comfort him even though he hates that he has to leave Harper's side for it. He tries to concentrate on the steady heartbeat, the warm hands stroking him and the soothing voice. The sooner he would calm down, the sooner Armie would be able to return to Harper.

 

She looks to the door for a moment, contemplating, but walking all the way back to her room where no one is talking seems scary. She would rather stay here with her dad and Timmy. She walks over to them and crawls on the bed next to them watching Timmy shake in dad's arms. She reaches out to touch her dad's arm. “Why is he like that?”

 

Timmy turns to hide his face, embarrassed to be seen like that. _Because I’m weak and I’m insecure,_ he wants to tell her, but there’s not enough air in his lungs and he knows Armie would scold him for it later. He just wished it would stop.

 

"He's just not feeling good. He's worried. You know when you get scared so I hold you? It's kind of like that," Armie says quietly, rubbing Timmy's back and resting his head against him.

"He's scared?"

"Sort of. It's hard for him to breathe right now so I'm helping him calm down." He's not sure how else to explain this and hopes it works. He presses his lips to the top of Timmy's head and starts humming the song Timmy would play on the piano in Italy as a warm up.

 

The more desperately Timmy wants to calm down to stop her questions and to stop her from witnessing this the harder it is to breathe properly and he grows more and more frustrated with himself. When he recognises the song he starts crying and that’s even worse. He startles when he feels two tiny hands on his back rubbing to give him comfort. He’s too shocked to cry for a moment and turns to look at Harper.

“It’s okay, Timmy. Don’t be scared.” She assures him. “Dad will protect us.”

She is so pure in her concern for him. She doesn’t understand how or why but she knows she doesn’t want to see him cry and that alone warms Timmy hard and he draws in a deep breath.

 

Armie gets emotional at the sight and holds back tears, one hand reaching to tangle in Timmy's hair to help him stay grounded as well. "That's right, Hops. I won't let anything bad happen to you guys," he nods, pulling Timmy closer and consequently her. "You okay?" he asks Timmy quietly, though he feels his heart rate is already slowing a bit.

 

Timmy nods slowly and realises that perhaps he really is. He doesn’t have to be afraid anymore to fall into a hole after his attacks. He now has people to catch him no matter what.

He slumps into Armie’s side and just wants to sleep. He feels his lungs fill with air again and his heart beat slow.

Harper seems instantly jealous of their close contact. The shock from earlier is still on her mind and she squirms to settle in between them.

 

Armie lets her, knowing it's a small price for what's happened. They could no longer assume innocent touch was allowed and ignored by her—everything would go through some form of filter with her now. "Harper, I think it's bedtime for real," he says after a minute. “I promise we can talk more tomorrow."

"At the zoo?" she asks. Armie looks at Timmy for a moment and struggles. He isn't sure the zoo is the smartest idea now, especially since this means he needs to tell Elizabeth she knows. Everything is a mess now.

"We'll talk tomorrow. Come on, I'll walk with you and tuck you in," he says, picking her up in his arms. He grabs Timmy's shoulder briefly and then walks out. "Do you want Timmy to go back to his apartment, Harper?" he asks when they're clear of him.

"No?" she shakes her head, but the sound is almost a question. He nods, relieved, and puts her to bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we both looked into the psychological impact divorce has on three year olds for this sort of scene, and nothing was written without care. Neither of us have this particular experience though, so again, all fiction and limited to our scope of perception and research.


	16. Chapter 16

Timmy stands up the moment the door closes behind them and starts to gather his things. Clearly, this isn’t something that works. He should let Armie clear it up. Between the kids and Elizabeth. He’ll only be in the way and make everything worse. When Armie returns he turns to face him. “I should leave. It’s the best for everyone,” he points out.

 

"You should--? Timmy.  _ No. _ Stop it," Armie says while making a bold move and grabbing his bag to unpack it. "You're not leaving, that's not happening. Don't be ridiculous--she's okay with you being here so don't even think about leaving." He turns to face him and steps forward to kiss him. "Please stay," he whispers against his lips before kissing him again. " _ Stay. _ " Another kiss against his jaw. "I don't want to sleep alone."

 

Timmy can feel the tears well up again. “But this is all because of me...” He gestures but Armie kisses him again. It’s true, Timmy doesn’t want to sleep alone either. He lets himself be guided back to the bed. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “That was so stupid. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I should’ve been patient.” He apologises as Armie pulls him down with him. They curl together on the covers, clinging to each other.

 

"I kissed you back. My hands were in your pockets. Don't blame yourself at all, this was bound to happen," he says, snaking a hand under his shirt to pull him closer. "To be honest I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner." He kisses his neck and sighs deeply, feeling exhausted emotionally now that everything's out in the open. He knows it's going to be hell tomorrow when he has to face Elizabeth, so he tries to enjoy his last moments with Timmy before it gets really bad.

“I want to help clean this mess up. I just don’t know how.” The only thing he does know is crawling into Armie and seeking comfort where he can. His hand strokes through Armie’s blond hair and he moves to kiss him again. They’d manage. Together. They have to. He’s even more afraid to be alone again now that he has experienced this. “She’s going to hate us.” He mumbles but knows they have to tell her what happened.

 

"I know," Armie mumbles, kissing him and turning them so he hovers over Timmy. "I don't care, she hates us anyway," he says against his neck. "I'll text her." He trails his lips over his skin and let's his weight press against him. "Are you okay? Be honest," he pleads. It occurs to him that perhaps Timmy had wanted to leave for himself, too.

 

“I think so. I want this to be good and easy but it just won’t let me have that. So I guess I’m as good as I can be.” He points out. Armie is warm and grounding on top of him. “This helps.” He points out. “You help.” He wraps his arms around his neck to keep him close.

 

"Good," Armie says. He leans up to kiss him and tries to erase the stress of the evening. "Actually hold on," he says, slipping out from the covers. He goes to the door and shuts it, locking it for good measure. He strips his jeans then gets back in bed. "I'm not risking it again," he says with a sheepish smile as he scoots closer.

 

Timmy snorts. “That’s probably a good idea. Though- she knows now. We’ll have to introduce her softly that it’s just something that happening. Holding hands, little kisses... you know. We don’t have to hold that back anymore.” He’s trying to see the upside of all of this. That’s what they had wanted after all. Just not like that.

 

Leaning forward, Armie kisses him solidly, his lips curling into a smile against Timmy before he pulls back and rests his forehead against him. "I guess so," he says. "Maybe holding hands, let's not jump straight to kissing just yet. I don't want to worry her," he says, trailing his lips down Timmy's neck and sucking lightly above his collarbone.

 

“Alright. Sounds good.” He agrees tipping his head back to allow Armie all the access that he wants. When Armie starts eagerly he pushes him off slightly. “Slow down. I can’t possibly go another round tonight if you want me to be able to walk tomorrow.” He reminds him and that’s really the only thing he wants to worry about. 

Armie pouts and it makes Timmy giggle. “God, you’re adorable.” He states and pulls him in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

 

"I love you more," he says, kissing him again sweetly. He lets out a sigh and shifts to snuggle up with him, pulling him closer. "You mean so much to me, you know that? All this insanity and it's only you I want to be around. You make everything lighter." Even the weight of him near him is enough to soothe his worried mind, heal him and piece him back together like a patchwork quilt. He can't even imagine being without him anymore.

 

“I’m trying my best- it’s just hard to grasp.” They snuggle up, tightly entwined. He grows melancholic--all of a sudden remembers Crema. “Can’t thank the universe enough for you.” He mumbles and kisses his cheek. “It’s safe and warm when you are there and I don’t have to be afraid to spiral because I know you’ll catch me.” He points out. It’s hard to believe how lucky he was to have met him.

 

Armie feels at a loss for words, so he just kisses him with all the emotion in his heart. "Of course I will," he mumbles against him. "You catch me, I catch you. That's the deal now." He runs a hand through his hair and presses his nose against his cheek, a bit overwhelmed with how much time he's gotten today with him like this. Soon this would be every day, and he wants it. God he wants it, even if it comes with painful conversations.

 

“Never signed up more gladly.” Timmy mumbles and his hands wander under Armie’s shirt. He sighs, knowing it’s more than he’d been allowed lately except this morning and he’s going to soak it all up while he can. It’s hard to not get worked up with this gorgeous man next to him in bed which he’d been pining for for so long. He licks down his throat and rolls on top of him again.

 

Armie moans and lets his hands fall at his sides to soak up the feeling completely. "Thought you said slow down," he teases. "I'm not complaining, just noting," he adds, worried he might stop touching him. "I dated this girl once who was into licking. Hated it. This though," he laughs a little. "I can get into this if it's you," he says, holding back another moan.

 

Timmy stops. “I don’t want you to like this just because of me,” he says, feeling uncomfortable suddenly. He doesn’t want to change him. “I’ll stop doing that.” He leans down to kiss his Adam’s Apple instead. He’s afraid that Armie desires him so much he gives himself up completely to fill his wants and then how would that make him different than all the others if he just has his own version of Armie Hammer? He wants  _ him _ , no alternation.

 

"You can, I like it," he says, but he also likes  _ this. _ He threads his fingers through his hair and sighs deeply. Timmy isn't wrong; Armie would probably let him do just about anything he wanted. It's part trust, part desire, that lets him give himself over so willingly, especially now that he's had him. The gesture to stop is appreciated on some level in Armie's mind, but it also translates to less contact which the rest of his body is decidedly against. "I like what you do because you're doing it, because I love you and it feels good." He's already feeling a little breathless with Timmy on him like this.

 

“Okay, I’ll just--tell me if you don’t like anything.” He is more careful about licking him now though and it makes him savour the taste all the more. “You’re so gorgeous and perfect. No- you are, you  _ are _ .” He shuts him up with a kiss. “And I love you with all my heart.” He whispers their lips still only a breath apart.

 

"I love you with all mine," Armie whispers. It's a little easier these days to accept his praise but it still feels a bit disorienting to be with him when he's like this, so completely enamored and determined to make Armie accept his words. It gives Armie strength, these moments of declaration. His hands trail along his body under the covers, just wanting to feel more of him under the pads of his fingers and remember that this is real, his new normal.

 

Timmy lets out a soft moan when he feels his fingers crawling under his shirt and up his spine. “And you drive me crazy in the most sense.” Timmy growls and seals their lips together, rocking up his hips, effectively pressing their erection together. They both moan hotly before diving into for another kiss.

 

"God, I've never loved doors so much," Armie breathes, his heart racing. He lifts his hips a little for more contact and tightens his grip on Timmy's back to pull him down harder. "It goes both ways, the driving each other crazy thing." He kisses him hard, trying to remember not to make too much noise and biting back a moan when their hips press together again

 

Timmy leaves his mouth and kisses down his throat again, pushing the shirt up to get more skin. It’s intoxicating to get to do this. Armie’s gasp is still too loud in the quiet though and he quickly reaches up to place a hand over his mouth. “Sssh.” He mumbles and rolls his hips again watching delighted how Armie’s eyes roll back. What he had not anticipated was the tongue darting out to draw his fingers in and lick at them. “Fuck, Armie.” Timmy mumbles caught completely off guard.

 

Armie's hit a point with his genuine attraction to him that he no longer cares about how it looks. And anyway, he knows Timmy is in the same boat, which is electrifying in itself. He grabs Timmy's wrist to prevent him from moving and sucks his fingers, moaning against them when Timmy grinds against him. Apparently, slow wasn't in their vocabulary. 

Armie lowers a hand along his back and into the back of his pants to grab his ass and push him against him again.

 

Timmy has to bite into his own wrist when arousal shoots through him at the sweet friction. His eyes crawl over the show Armie is putting on. It may be the hottest thing he’d ever seen. “God, you’re incredible,” he mumbles and kisses his cheek where he can feel his tongue working. Then he rolls his hips obediently, trying to keep quiet himself.

 

Armie releases his fingers in favor of capturing his lips again, his hands fighting with Timmy's pants to lower them. "Take them off," he tells him, gripping the fabric and releasing to frame his face to kiss once more. "Please," he adds as an afterthought, kissing his jaw. He's too hard not to get off tonight and he can tell Timmy is, too.

 

It goes against all his instinct at the moment to pull away from Armie. But it’s necessary to wiggle out of his pants and he then goes to pull Armie’s off as well. When he’s done he crawls back over Armie and kisses him again, bringing their hips together like this. They both moan at the friction of skin against skin. “What do you want? Tell me,” he mumbles.

 

"You. I just want you," he moans, his hips lifting to seek friction. He's slightly embarrassed to really ask for anything simply because they haven't really talked about what they are and aren't comfortable with. He's not sure exactly what he is and isn't comfortable with here, but he feels safe with Timmy. "Touch me, I don't care where just do something,  _ please _ ."

 

Armie’s desperation is arousing and adorable at the same time. “Okay, okay.” He kisses him to soothe his distress and reaches down to wrap his hand around their cocks slowly stroking them in sync. “Is this good?” he asks, feeling sweat starting to run down his back. This promised a never ending cycle of showers.

 

"Oh  _ god _ yes," Armie says, his head falling back and eyes shutting. He always liked to be in control with people in the past but there's something intoxicating about letting go and giving Timmy the power instead. He lets him take the lead but pulls him down for a kiss, his hands tugging at Timmy's hair. "More," he says, thrusting slightly into his hand.

 

Timmy starts to stroke them faster and doesn’t take his eyes off his face. He looks so beautiful like that, completely undone. “So good.” He whispers and lets his thumb flick over the heads of their cocks. They both fight to suppress the groan. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Timmy pants feeling his orgasm approach.

 

Armie knows it'll be over before he wants but he's so desperate that he can't justify telling him to slow down. Instead, he lets his body cave to the touch and tries to breathe despite the air leaving his lungs in short pants. He gets closer, desperate whimpers escaping when he feels the edge just out of reach. " _ Tim _ ." His hand fists in Timmy's hair and he feels his lungs seizing as he cums.

 

Timmy stifles his moan in Armie’s shoulder as the wave of his orgasm rolls over him. For a moment everything is white noise until their mixed panting fades in again and he becomes aware of his sticky hand between them and withdraws it. “God, we’ve seriously been compensating today,” he mumbles feeling bone deep bliss settling into him making him limp and sleepy.

 

Armie chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. "You know they're going to wake us up at the crack of dawn, too. I swear they just know when you need to sleep," he sighs. They hadn't even bothered to strip off their shirts in their haste-- it makes Armie smirk. He rolls Timmy off him and takes his shirt off, reaching between them and wiping them down, his cheeks flushed. "This day is endless cleaning up," he says. "Not that I mind," he adds with a kiss against him.

 

“Well, turns out I’m high maintenance,” he mumbles and stretches his arms over his head. He lets Armie take his shirt off as well. It’s not as badly soiled though. He stretches and feels Armie’s eyes track his movements. “We should probably put on some pants so we are ready to function when we wake up,” he points out and yawns. He just wants to cuddle up and forget about their worries for awhile.

 

"Right, pants," Armie nods with a small groan. He doesn't want to move either; he's still feeling pleasantly blissed out and leaving the bed feels tragic. He's right, though--not putting pants on is just asking for them to get caught again. Reluctantly, Armie gets up and digs through bags until he finds sweatpants for both of them. He tosses a pair to Timmy and slips the other on before slipping back into bed with a deep sigh and smile.

 

Timmy moves closer and sighs at the hand on his sensitive skin. He still feels a little prickle everywhere. “You should text her, at least. Then we can-“ He doesn’t want to say forget but perhaps pretend for a little while things aren’t spiralling again. He doesn’t want to bring it up at all but it’s only going to get worse if they ignore it.

 

Armie nods and finds his phone, staring at it for a moment. "She's going to be so pissed. She's going to think I did it on purpose," he says. He'll text her. He will. But he needs a minute to get the courage to face this. After their earlier conversation, there's no way she'll be calm about this.

 

Timmy nods. “Yeah, but we don’t have a choice.” He settles his head on Armie’s chest hoping to give him some silent support. He hates that this is all so complicated and nothing goes according to plan. “But it’ll be fine. In the end, it’s a miracle we managed to hide it that long and it was going to happen sooner or later.” He points out gently stroking through Armie’s chest hair.

 

"She thinks I'm telling them she doesn't love them. Did I tell you that? This is going to be seen as an attack," he mutters, unlocking his phone and opening her contact to send the text. "I get her fear, I guess. But she should know I would never do that." He sighs and starts typing  _ She knows, _ but hesitates before hitting send.

 

“But she doesn’t.” Timmy adds. It’s true and it hurts Armie. He understands that one would want the other to know them a little better after years of marriage. “I’m sorry, it turned out like this. I wish she’d be the one for you so you wouldn’t have to suffer through all of this just to be with me. It’s not fair.” He kisses the skin of his shoulder. But there are no words which can actually change anything. “She’ll understand. One day, with a little distance, I think she’ll understand.”

 

Armie turns into his touch and meets his lips with a sigh. He lingers, breathing the air around them with his nose still brushed against Timmy's. "I don't want to think about it, honestly. The future with her just makes me anxious," he admits. He hits send, resolved, and tries not to worry too much. "I'd rather think about you," he says, kissing him again.

 

Timmy kisses him back. “As long as you don’t think too  _ hard _ ,” he teases, hoping to cheer him up a little. “But once we get through all of this  _ bullshit _ , it will be wonderful. A year down the road...” he murmurs. “I could do this on a crowded street,” he suggests and kisses him. It makes him giddy to think about that future and all the more determined to fight for it.

 

"God I can't wait," Armie murmurs, gently pulling him closer to hug him against his body. "I love you so much. I'm so glad I'm dealing with this next to you." The confession makes his heart race a little which is insane, but he can't stop it nevertheless. He's not sure he would even be able to mentally handle all of this if it weren't for him.

 

“I still can’t believe this is really happening,” he mumbles as an answer. To hear these words and know that  _ this _ means every step of the process of bringing them together and making them being a couple real. “‘M still kinda waiting to wake up, you know?” he mumbles, and closes his eyes contentedly as he feels Armie’s lips brush against his hairline.

 

"If it's a dream I don't want to wake up," Armie says. His phone buzzes and he tightens his grip on Timmy. "I don't want to look," he groans. He nuzzles closer to Timmy and hides in his warmth to avoid the cold of her words he knows are waiting for him.

 

Timmy holds him tighter, wants to protect him from it all. “There’s nothing we can do right now anyway. Let’s look tomorrow.” He suggests and makes sure Armie is snuggled into him and warm, lets his hands wander over his back in soothing motions. “We’re gonna be fine,” he mumbles, but stares at the phone just as scared.

 

Armie tries to sleep but struggles a bit. He can't shake the unease in his stomach of her knowing-- something tells him he should be worried. Timmy's words helps sooth him but not nearly enough and he stares at the ceiling for far too long. At some point, he gets another text. Timmy is barely awake but Armie pulls him in just the same, trying to hide from what they did. He falls asleep out of exhaust later and wakes with a start, sweat on his neck, from a nightmare where he wasn't allowed to see the kids anymore. He starts suffocating in the bed, or at least it feels that way, and stumbles out while trying not to wake Timmy. He grabs his phone as he leaves and rests against the hall wall, but from there he can see the kids' room and it doesn't help at all. Clutching his side, he walks away towards a more secluded part of the main area and sits down with his back against the wall. He opens his phone, as if asking for salt when you're already bleeding. 

_ What does that mean. What's going on over there? ARMIE? _

_ I swear to god if you told her that you're screwing him. I can’t believe you'd do this to me after everything else. And not answering me? Who even are you anymore?? _

He's shaking as he reads and rereads and rereads.

 

Since Armie doesn’t answer Elizabeth feels like she’s losing the last bit of control. She needs to be there and see what actually happened. She books a flight for early the next morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the chapter count is tentative. i think it's 23, but it might end up being 24. we have to finish the last bit to know for sure...)
> 
> Nici and I read all of your comments always and love them so much even if we can't get to all of them. We both want you all to know that we appreciate you guys so much. Nici especially wants yall to know that even though she doesn't get to respond to stuff often, she's incredibly grateful for your kind words and support <3


	17. Chapter 17

Timmy wakes and the bed is empty next to him. He stretches his hand out and feels traces of warmth. “Armie?” He mumbles and stumbles out of bed. He finds him in the living room sitting at the wall behind the couch so he doesn’t even see him at first. “Armie.” He sits down next to him and only then notices that he’s crying. Carefully he wraps an arm around him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, feeling the guilt hot and heavy in his stomach.

 

Armie gives him the phone as an answer and leans towards his touch. He's panicky and hot and everything feels like it's teetering on an edge. They're going to go to the zoo and get their pictures taken and she can use it against them if she wants and the world will start figuring it out and his parents would have to know soon and the kids would lose them as grandparents and he wouldn't be allowed back to the LA house and she could blame it all on him and he wouldn't deny it. He doesn't even bother wiping the tears away. There's a part of him that just feels empty, like every tear was draining him of himself until he's just a shell of a person, terrified to lose what he loves. Slowly, he turns towards Timmy and rests his head against his. _I can't lose this,_ he thinks.

 

Timmy’s heart clenches as he reads the messages before putting the phone away. He can’t believe Armie is going through this just to be with him. It makes him feel worse. He’s not worth all of this. But he wants Armie to be happy more than anything and they both know that’s not with her anymore. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. He cradles Armie’s head between his hands. “I’m sorry.” He wipes the tears away and kisses the skin beneath his eyes before pulling him back into a hug.

 

Armie collapses into his arms and presses his eyes shut against his bare shoulder. He needs to calm down, there's nothing he can do right now and he knows it, so panicking isn't doing any good. "Don't be sorry," he whispers. "I did this. It's not your fault I fell in love with you." His voice shakes but at this point he's beyond caring about how Timmy sees him.

 

At least this is better than hiding it behind his layers and masks. Timmy likes to think it will help be happier if he learns to express how he feels. “I still feel bad. I feel awful that this is happening.” He wants to be with him just as bad, he loves him just as much but it doesn’t feel fair that it’s coming at this price. “And I feel even worse that I can’t do anything about it.”

 

"Do you regret this?" Armie asks, a bit defeated. He hates that this makes Timmy hurt, too. Every time he talks about it like this, Armie worries that he's just too far down this path to stop them from going further. And he doesn't want that, of course he doesn't. He wants him to want this as much as he does, and he knows he does but sometimes in his moments of weakness, Armie doubts even Timmy's willingness to put up with him.

 

“No.” It’s quick and firm. He remembers like from a different time him saying yes to the same question in his Austin hotel room. “No, I don’t. Remember when you arrived here and we all snuggled into bed and had a big nap? I’ll never forget your face. I want to make you exactly this happy every day. And I think once we get through this I could. Me and the kids,” he explains and kisses Armie’s neck. “Unless you regret it?” It’s a fear that he might carry with him for awhile longer.

 

Armie shakes his head. "I only regret it if it makes you run away from me," he confesses. He thinks he can fight for the kids, and actually he's not sure she could really control whether or not they see him. But it's hard to remember that when the world is falling apart. Timmy running feels more likely and that terrifies him, though his words help. Armie can hear the conviction in them and it comforts him just as much as his touch. "I just don't want this to fall apart."

 

“I want this and I’m only going to leave if I think it’s the best for you. This is not going to make me love you any less.” He promises. The way he feels about Armie is nothing that’s going to change anytime soon or very quick. He’s in for the long haul.

 

They sit quietly for a few minutes with Armie leaning on him, his arm draped around one of Timmy's legs so his hand rests on his knee. Lost in thought, Armie doesn't even really realize when he starts dozing off until Timmy shifts slightly and it stirs him. "Let’s go back to bed," he suggests, presses a kiss on Timmy's shoulder. They had a little time before they would inevitably get woken up, and now that Armie feels a bit better, he wants the comfort of the bed.

 

“Yes, good.” Timmy stands up and they walk back hand in hand. His mind is still going a mile a minute and when they curl up in bed again he clings to Armie. Memories of life without flood him and it’s suffocating. He doesn’t want to be alone in the dark again.

 

This time Armie drifts off almost immediately, comforted by Timmy's arms and warmth. The next time he wakes up, there are little hands hitting the door moments before it opens. Right. They hadn't locked it when they came back in. "Daddy, Timmy, it's time for the zoo," Harper whisper-yells. Armie groans and clings to Timmy to hide his face from the light when she turns it on. He realizes a beat later that she's watching them and it makes him roll away to his own side of the bed, away from Timmy.

"Hops. Put on a show or something. Let me wake up first," he complains.

"Then the zoo?" she asks, leaning against the bed.

 

Timmy hadn’t fallen asleep again and he’s tired of lying around and going over the same fears over and over again so he rolls from the bed and swoops her up. She squeals and wiggles in his hold as he carries her out. Armie can doze a little longer while Timmy walks into the kitchen to make the first coffee of the day. He puts her down then and she calls for him to chase him. It’s almost like last night hadn’t happened, he thinks as they run circles around the living room table.

 

Armie listens to them as he wakes up, smiling fondly. The sound is innocent and wonderful-- he finds he can actually enjoy it without worrying too much about everything else happening. Still wrapped up in the sheets which Timmy's smell clings to, Armie feels a little better. Ford starts making noise before long, though, so he gets up and grabs a hoodie before walking out of their room,  pulling it on. He glances over at Timmy and Harper with a smile and then opens the door for the kids’ room. Ford starts making more noise, bouncing a bit when he sees Armie. "Hey, Ford!" he says, picking him up and kissing his cheeks a few times. He needs to be changed, so Armie does that first and then gets him some clean clothes. Ford sucks his thumb and rests his head against Armie's shoulder as he walks out to the living space.

 

It’s something Timmy now expects to see in the morning, Ford clinging to Armie and their sleepy smiles. He feels a little better instantly. “I made coffee.” He points out.

“Zoo! Zoo! Zoo!” Harper chants and jumps through the room.

“Breakfast first, chérie!” Timmy tells her and shakes his head at her excitement. He hasn’t been in the zoo in forever and is actually curious to see the animals and what has changed since he was a child.

 

Armie can smell the fresh coffee and it fills him with familiarity and ease. "Thanks," he says. His hand skirts along Timmy's back as he passes; he was right last night when he said they could start having more casual touch around the kids.  Armie wants him to know he's feeling more himself and less worried about all this even though he still has some fears. He grabs a cup, Ford grabbing his hand to look in the mug curiously before returning to his perch against Armie.

 

It’s absolutely cute to watch father and son in their morning routine. Harper clings to his leg. “Then breakfast noooooow!” she hollers, and the longer they wait the worse it’s going to get. He drags her into the kitchen since she’s still hanging on his leg. He gets toast and Nutella out. “What do you want to eat?” he asks Armie.

 

"The same is fine," Armie smiles back, watching fondly. He hadn't expected Harper to let them exist in the same space this morning at all. Maybe she's okay with this after all, he thinks. He hopes.

"Dad, the zoo?" Harper asks, turning her attention.

"Yes, the zoo, I hear you," he laughs, ruffling her hair, much to her chagrin. "Did you see Timmy's going to let you have nutella for breakfast?" he asks her. Her face lights up like she's got a secret and she peeks over at him. Armie chuckles and smiles at Timmy. He's decided to do whatever he can today to help Harper see Timmy as a friend, not foe.

 

Timmy smiles as he gets a knife out and starts spreading Nutella on toasts for everyone. When he’s done with the first he hands it to Harper. “Sit at the table,” he tells her, and makes another another one for Armie and then himself. Ford is happy to try the sweet chocolate cream and makes the most delighted face at the taste. They all laugh and Timmy feels his chest relax from the pressure he’d felt all night.

 

When they finish, Armie helps Harper wipe off her face and hands. "Will you help Ford get ready?" he asks Timmy, pressing his hand into his back. "I think he'll let you, he's pretty content today." Harper's already choosing clothes for the day so Armie gets pulled away towards her to help.

 

Timmy looks down at Ford who starts pulling at his shirt. “Alright, buddy. Let’s see,” he mumbles and walks to the closet with Ford’s clothes. He chooses some casual clothes that would be easy to wash should he take a plunge into a puddle. He lays the clothes out on the changing table in the bathroom and gets him out of the pyjamas, blowing a raspberry onto his tummy to keep him entertained. He’s glad Armie had always let him do this, even before anything between them had become solid. He remembers the time when Armie had let him change Ford for the first time and patiently explained to him how to put on a onesie as effectively as possible. It had made his heart race because he’d dreamed of this, of being a family with them and now they are. He pulls a face and Ford laughs. Timmy thinks his heart might burst.

 

"Mommy said there's penguins at the zoo," Harper says when they're alone. Armie freezes but recovers quickly, swallowing hard.

"Yep, we can go see them if you want," he says, ignoring the mention of Elizabeth. She smiles and sways a little, making it harder for Armie to get her dressed. "Hops, hold still silly." She's too excited and it's cute, but it's a little frustrating to get her arms through her dress when she's skipping around. "Harper," he says, chuckling a little when she grabs his shoulder for balance. "Come on, you wanted to wear this so let's put it on and then go to the zoo." This gets her attention and she lets him dress her at last. As soon as she's ready, she runs out of the room shouting Timmy's name.

"Zoo time!" she says.

 

Ford starts wiggling and babbling loudly as he hears his sister. Timmy manages to put a hat on his head before picking him up. “Yes, I’m coming!” he calls out and joins them in the hallway. He exchanges a look with Armie. “Let us get dressed and then we are good to go,” he tells Harper and puts Ford down. He chooses dark jeans, a loose hoodie and his Brentwood Country Mart cap.  He tucks his pants into his socks and is ready to go.

 

Armie throws on a white t-shirt with his jeans and runs a hand through his hair, watching Timmy. "Hot," he smirks, walking over and tugging at his hat a little before kissing him quickly. "Okay, ready?" he asks, knowing his words hold a lot of meaning. Ready to go, ready to be out in the open, ready to be seen and talked about. Ready for a new normal. He's not sure he even is but he wants to be.

 

“Ready.” Timmy answers and holds his hand out for him to take. Their fingers entwine for a moment and Timmy squeezes. They would be alright. He hopes. He lets go then and walks out. “Time to go,” he declares and Armie quickly stuffs a bag with Ford’s necessities and a few snacks. Timmy lets Harper choose something she can play with while they’re having lunch so she doesn’t get bored. Lastly they take the stroller and walk downstairs where they catch a cab to the zoo.

 

When they arrive, Harper grabs Timmy's hand and tries to run immediately, derailing a few pedestrians who don't expect it. "Hops! Careful baby!" Armie is starting to stress out, his eyes darting around. It'll be fine, he thinks. "Don't let her run," he says, leaning closer to Timmy. "She gets excited and runs if you don't hold her hand." He puts Ford in his stroller and shifts the diaper bag on his shoulder with a deep breath. "Okay, let's go."

 

Timmy smiles at him. “It’ll be fine,” he assures him, not quite sure where he’s taking that confidence from. He holds onto Harper’s hands tightly and lets her dictate the direction, lifts her up when she wants to see something. They are close to relaxing when after 30 minutes nothing happened. Then suddenly, as they are watching the giraffes someone approaches them. “Excuse me, aren’t you the guy from The Social Network?” Timmy looks down, hoping the curls would obscure his face enough so he doesn’t get recognised.

 

 _Ah, there it is._ "Oh my god, it _is_. Honey-- it's that guy!" Armie smiles at the couple and nods as if he's been caught.

"Hi guys, how are ya," he greets them. They're delighted but don't seem to see Timmy, or at least don't recognize him. Armie takes a quick picture with them and they praise his work for a moment before apologizing for interrupting. He shakes it off and tells them it's no big deal, but he sees other people staring now and his stomach twists into knots.

 

Timmy can feel the anxiety come off Armie in waves. “Come on, Hops. Let’s go see the penguins, yes?” he suggests and tugs at her hand slightly. They walk side by side and Timmy can see Armie shooting nervous glances around them. “It’s bigger than I remember. My family used to go when I was younger,” he explains, trying to relax Armie a little by it.

 

Armie nods but he's got a sinking feeling now that won't go away. He wishes he could hold Timmy's hand for some stability but that would only make it worse. "Funny. Usually things feel smaller when you get older. I don't know that I've ever been here to be honest," he says. "I'm glad you're here." It's not much but he hopes Timmy understands it means more than just here on this visit. To their right, Armie sees someone taking a picture with their phone quietly. It makes him sidestep a little to put just a little more distance between them, always putting on a show.

 

Timmy notices but doesn’t say anything about it. By the time they’d leave there would be paparazzi. They just had to be prepared. It’s more about what kind of story they would invent to go with the pictures. But they had their publicists- “Shit!” It slips out before Timmy can stop it and he can feel Harper frowning at him for using a bad word. “Armie, did you tell your publicist?” he asks frantically, knowing that he hadn’t but should’ve. They appreciate a little heads up with such actions.

 

Armie's eyes slip shut as his body goes numb. He knew he'd forgotten something. "She knows I went to New York, I think she can guess why-- I'm sure Elizabeth said something. She has no idea we're here, though. God, okay. Let me text her," he says, fishing out his phone. This is bad-- he's already got a bitter text from Elizabeth about him being irresponsible. He shoots a quick text to his publicist telling her where he is and what it might look like, and not two minutes later gets a response: _I know, the pics are on twitter already. Your lack of impulse control is giving me a headache. Doing what I can. Don't you dare go for pda. AND DON’T LOOK AT TWITTER. Trust me._ He sighs and glances at Timmy. He stuffs his phone in his pocket and shrugs. "She's... dealing with it I guess."

 

“Well it’s what we pay them for.” Timmy admits and sends his own a text. _I’m with Armie and his kids at the zoo. People might make assumptions. We are a couple but won’t make anything official for awhile. Sorry for not warning you. Won’t hold hands or kiss, I promise._ It’s perhaps the weirdest text he’s ever sent but she needs to know at what level they are operating. He waits for a response and gets it quickly. _Got alerted over IG already. Congrats, but try to remember I can help you better if I know what’s coming. Let me take care of the people enjoy the day_. Timmy sighs. “Alright. I think we got everything covered now.”

“Can we go to the penguins _now_?” Harper demands angrily, not understanding what the fuss was about.

 

"Yes! Penguins, right. Let's go," Armie says. resisting the urge to touch Timmy's back as they pass. The stroll over to the covered penguin area is somewhat crowded but nothing too intense, enough that he gets to walk a little closer to Timmy than he probably should. The smell hits them first, and Harper scrunches up her nose while still holding Timmy's hand. The second she hears them calling to each other, she hurries her footsteps and pulls Timmy's arm to go faster. She gasps, the giant glass walls showing multiple kinds of penguins on land and swimming.

"Look!" she gasps, pointing as one dives into the water just as another gracefully emerges onto land. "Can I?" she asks, looking at Armie. He smiles and nods towards the wall. She doesn't hesitate; she's sitting at the edge of it with her hands pressed against the wall in an instant. Armie watches her with a smile and takes out his phone to snap a picture before putting it back in his pocket and walking around to take Ford out of his stroller to see better.

 

Timmy kneels down next to Harper. “Do you know where they live Hops?” he asks as they watch.

“Of course! In the winter!” She says and it’s so disarming Timmy chuckles. “Well you could say that. Who’s your favourite?”

“This one!” Harper points to one and then looks around and discovers another one. “No this one.” Timmy listens happily and turns to look at Armie who towers over the crowd with Ford on his shoulders.

“I wanna take a picture!” She declares and Timmy fishes his phone out of the pocket and opens the camera so she can take her pictures. He suspects he will have hundreds of penguin pictures on it once she’s done but doesn’t mind. He steadies her by holding her at her waist and automatically ensuring no one comes too close to her.

“Timmy can you take a picture of us? Like mommy always does?” Timmy suspects that means a selfie.

“Sure.” He takes the phone and flips it to the front camera.

“Do you remember my sign, Hops?” he asks and she forms a peace sign with her fingers which she’d learned from him. He chuckles and mirrors it before snapping a couple of pictures.

 

Armie sees them take the picture and tries his hardest to stop the smile from breaking his features, but fails. He can't remember being this happy, to be honest. It's as if moments with Timmy and his children were slowly overwhelming his memory until the brightest spots were consumed with their faces and voices. Memories of old seemed to hold Timmy's smile as well, his mind unable to comprehend a happy moment now where he wasn't present. It's alarming in best way, a subtle reminder of what this means, of why he's fought for this.

Ford points to them and Armie pats his back before putting him down, holding his little hand as he finds his balance to walk over to Timmy and Harper. He makes some noise, delighted when a penguin makes a similar one, perhaps in response, perhaps a coincidence. He hits his hands onto the glass once to rest them there and tries talking to them, and Armie has to take a moment to absorb the image in front of him. Harper puts a hand on Ford's shoulder and he's a goner-- he isn't sure if anyone is around to see him but he needs this picture, too. After, he stands back and lets Timmy have a moment with them, sensing he might need it.

 

Timmy looks up at Armie for a moment, wishing he would’ve stayed with them but letting him have the space. He wraps an arm around each kid as Harper explains to Ford that penguins are birds that cannot fly and live in the winter. After awhile it’s time to move on though and let other people have their turn and he picks them up to walk back to the stroller, smiling when Armie is waiting there for them.

 

"So cute," Armie says softly when they return to him, just loud enough for them to hear and no one else. "Come on, I saw something on the map I think they'll like," he says, nodding to the side as Timmy puts Ford in the stroller. Harper hangs around them, grabbing Armie's hand as they walk towards a somewhat enclosed area. "Woah," Harper sighs when they walk in, the temperature changing slightly as they're wrapped up in vibrant forestry, birds flying overhead. Harper's eyes travel up the space, along the trees, finding animals and pointing, awe in her eyes. Ford makes noise and motions to get out, so Armie leaves the stroller at the entrance and carries him back in the space.

 

Timmy has been holding Harper’s hand when they return to make sure she doesn’t run off but when Armie joins them Harper grabs his hand as well and Timmy frantically tries to determine whether this counts as holding hands or not. He shoots Armie a questioning look as Harper pulls at them to start walking.

 

Armie groans a little, knowing how this looks. Maybe he could let go of her hand and it would be okay-- she turns back to look at him when he does and then looks at Timmy before reaching for Armie's hand again. He _knows_ this is bad, though and he panics, shaking his head at Timmy. When he tries to drop her hand though, she loses it. "I want to hold his hand, too! Daddy how come you get to--"

"Okay, okay, Timmy grab her hand," he says frantically, his other arm holding Ford tightening just a little. She smiles when she's got both their hands in hers and starts walking, though something catches her eye and she drops both their hands to run up the stairs to the next platform to stare into the trees. Armie sighs and rolls his eyes at her dramatics. "Hops, stay close please," he says, moving towards the stairs with a sidelong glance at Timmy.

 

This is a mess and Timmy feel his heart still hammering in his chest. If someone walked behind them and took a pic...he turns his head but of course there’s nothing suspicious to see anymore. He drags in a shaky breath and follows Harper up the stairs to make sure she doesn’t fall off the platform. She’s trying to imitate the cries of a parrot that sits on a branch close to the platform and Timmy quickly wraps an arm around her, not being able to see her lean against the fence like that.

 

Armie thinks he might be sick just seeing his own panic reflected back in Timmy's eyes. His phone vibrates and he pulls it out without a thought, seeing a text from Elizabeth. _You WILL talk to me about this today. Not negotiable. Still can't believe you told her without me._ He feels terrible, he really does. But he even asked her what she wanted him to do in this situation and she didn't seem to want to face it as a possibility. He's frustrated all over again, types out _fine_. and hits send. He just wants this over with, it's stressing him out almost as much as he thinks staying with her at this point would. There's no easy way out of reality.

He goes up the stairs and lets Ford reach out to touch some leaves, pushing the anxiety back to accommodate the way his kids' faces light up.

 

Timmy turns to look up at him. He hopes he can communicate how sorry he is for this mess. He wraps his arms around Harper a little tighter and presses a kiss to her head. “Come on. Let’s go on.”

 

They are recognised a few more times but at least manage to get lunch in peace. When the exit comes into sight they both tense. “We are going to be okay, right?” Timmy asks Armie, and lifts Harper up, propping her on his hip. Like that he could easily hide her face in his neck.

 

"Yeah, of course." The words aren't nearly as confident leaving Armie's lips as he'd like them to be. He pulls Ford's sun shield down over his stroller for protection against cameras and nods at Timmy. He's not sure if it would look more suspicious for Timmy to hold Harper or push Ford, but they're sort of past worrying about it. People would talk regardless; no choice was better than the other. He still feels the weight of her words through text in his pocket, almost threatening. This wouldn't help, but then again, nothing would. They leave the zoo and Armie tries his hardest not to look at Timmy, to keep a firm two and a half feet between them at all times, to not respond when the couple of guys from god knows what media outlet shout questions about his visit, where Elizabeth is, why Timmy's holding Harper. He can only hope Timmy's blocking her face from their flashes, guarding her from the accusations that would one day catch up to their truth.

 

Timmy presses Harper to his chest firmly and tries not to listen to any of them himself. He starts to panic though when one of them blocks his way and walks closer to Armie to swerve around him. When the guy even grips his arm he sees red and pushes him away roughly. “Don’t touch us!” he hisses.

 

"Timmy," Armie's voice cuts through like a warning, his eyes darting to him for the first time. He looks panicked and it feeds Armie's own fears. There's a cafe near them and he quickens his pace to get them inside. "Sorry guys, busy day. Have a nice one," Armie smiles, easily enough, his hand reaching out to grab Timmy's arm to move him into the storefront. Once inside, "Don't look at me," he tells him. "Look at the counter and keep her head down." He keeps a smile on his face and he glances out the window with a sheepish wave. He's had to do this before; if they sense something is off, they'll stick around for far longer than necessary, prod with worse questions, etc. A casual day out? Less entertaining. Less attention. "Go order two coffees and some snack for her," he tells Timmy. "Don't look back. They can still see us in the window." He pulls out his phone and calls his PR rep, filling them in, smiling and hoping they think he's talking to Elizabeth instead. She tells him she'll take care of it and watch for the pictures, but she's sure it's not as bad as he worries. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, but he can't tell her why he's so concerned in a cafe full of people. He sits down at the window table, the only one in proximity available, and coos at Ford when he gets fussy as they wait.

 

Timmy’s breath is still coming too fast and his heart is beating too fast in his chest as he orders and then sits down at the table opposite Armie, trying not to look at him despite knowing that he would bring him comfort right now. He’s still wound up and ready to bolt any second. Harper wiggles on his lap until he lets her go enough that she can look around. “Timmy, you look scared.” She notices and reached up to pat his cheek. He’s quick to catch her hand, afraid of the pictures that would result in. It hurts to turn her down when she’s only trying to comfort him though. “It’s okay.” He tries to assure her. She gives him a winning smile and presses a kiss to his hand. “No need to be scared, daddy will protect us from them,” she promises and then hugs his chest. Timmy lets out a sigh and wishes it would be that simple as he strokes her back.

 

Armie's leg finds his under the tiny table and at least the size of their seating area is good for one thing, closeness. "Hey, they'll leave soon when they see nothing's happening," he tells him, pressing his shin against Timmy's leg. "You know how it goes," he shrugs. When their order is called, Armie stands and gets it, snaps a picture of Harper holding her cinnamon swirl cake, and posts it to his Instagram story with a Central Park filter. Control the image, he reminds himself. If he's okay being seen, then there's nothing to hide. He sips his coffee and presses his leg back against Timmy's, smiling a little to try to ease his anxiety, though his own is building in his chest. Something's off, he's sure of it.

 

Timmy helps Harper finish the piece of cake and feels himself relax just a little. Telling himself that they’re going to be fine. They didn’t do anything wrong. “Let’s go home.” He suggests when they’re done and the street is clear of photographers.

They call a cab and only breathe when they’re in the hotel room again. Timmy sets down Harper and practically falls into Armie’s chest. He can do that now. He can seek comfort. There’s a phone chiming but it’s not Timmy’s.

 

_Where are you?_

 

Armie swallows hard, staring at the text. There's no way. _At a hotel,_ he sends her. He pushes the phone back into his pocket and tries not to let the fear consume him. His stomach has sunk to his feet and he feels lightheaded. Harper tries to get into his arms, consequently pushing Timmy aside gently. He tries not to read into _that_ either, but it's hard. He picks her up and still feels sick, reaches out for Timmy's arm just to touch and Harper pulls his hand back to her. Almost as if she knows, almost as if she's working with Elizabeth on some wavelength he can't hear, conspiring against him and Timmy in this moment.

 

Timmy clears his throat and tries to swallow the hurt. It’s stupid. Harper cannot be doing this consciously just to hurt him. He doesn’t think she would want that. But it’s quite possible that she doesn’t want anything to change.

_Yeah but what hotel??_

Timmy exchanges a worried look with Armie when his phone chimes again. He wonders what she’s telling him.

Ford at least is sick of being strapped into the stroller and Timmy takes the opportunity to turn away from them.

 

He sighs, anxiety filling him. He knows why she's asking but he's afraid to believe it, to say it out loud; he doesn't want to crush Timmy just yet. _London._ He sends the text quickly and puts his phone on the coffee table before turning on the TV for Harper. He motions for Timmy to follow him and walks into their room, leaving the door open for him. He starts pacing, his hands shaking at his sides. He should have known this would happen.

 

Timmy sets him down on and follows Armie. He doesn’t look good. Something is clearly wrong. “Armie?” He asks concerned. “What’s wrong? Tell me,” he commands, not being able to bear the uncertainty.

 

Armie walks over to him and without hesitation, kisses him. His hands frame his face to keep from shaking and he keeps their lips locked until he worries he can't risk another second. "I think she's here," he says softly. "I don't know for sure, but I think she flew to New York. She's asking what hotel we're in, I'm sorry, Timmy. I didn't...I didn't think she would do this." He knows exactly why she's here and it makes him sick that she's reacted this way, though he can't say he wouldn't have done the same. He understands that she's worried about her life falling apart, too. It just sucks that her actions of self-preservation come at the cost of his happiness as well.

 

Timmy covers Armie’s hands trying to ground himself. “She’s here.” He breathes out. “What does that mean?” He asks. “Is she going to take you back? The kids?” He tightens his grip. “Don’t leave me.” He begs feeling tears well up in his eyes and thinking how pathetic that has to look like. “I can’t live without you.” He’s sobbing and tries to keep his voice down but he’s desperate. In an attempt to save some dignity, he turns to hide his face in Armie’s palm.

 

Armie lifts his face and kisses him again, his eyes slipping shut. "I'm not going anywhere," he promises. "I love you, I'm staying here." He thinks she'll take the kids, or at least fight to bring the back. And what can he really say? Sure, they'd agreed on two weeks but can he really deny her if she comes here and the kids want to go? The only thing he can give Timmy is assurance that he'll stay. "I don't know about the kids to be honest. But I'll stay, I'm not leaving you again." He pulls him into a tight hug and tries to will his tears away. He hadn't anticipated this fear welling up inside Timmy of being left behind and it breaks his heart. "I'm not going anywhere," he tells him again, rubbing his back. How deep did his wounds go? How much damage had he done the last time he walked away? He feels miserable in his sudden guilt.

 

Timmy clings to him desperately willing himself to listen to his heartbeat. “I love you.” He reminds him. It’s not enough time to calm down completely before there’s a knock at the door. Timmy wonders how she got past the reception but surely the argument that they’re married helped. He steals a last kiss from Armie’s lips before letting him go.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Elizabeth pushes a strand of her hair back, completing her perfect outfit. When the door opens she doesn’t bother to put on a smile. “Armie,” she states and when her eyes wander into the hallway behind him she can see Timmy, eyes red and hair tousled. She raises an eyebrow. “Where are the kids?” she asks.

 

He motions towards the generous living space to their left and swallows the anxiety that comes with seeing her again. He grabs her arm before she can be seen by them and says, "Don't you dare turn them against me. It was an accident, I swear to god. I didn't mean for her to know, and she doesn't know everything. She knows I like him at most. That's it." He releases her, his eyes pleading. It would be so easy for the kids to side with her; he's the one who cheated, the one who will stay behind, the one who for all intents and purposes, seems to be at fault. He steals a glance at Timmy and regrets it immediately; his eyes are as sad as he feels, the emotion all over his face. "You should probably stay here," he says softly with a sad smile, his hands stuffing into his pockets. 

"Mommy!" Harper squeals, and his eyes slip shut. 

"Don't kill yourself trying to be there for me, I'll be okay. Please just breathe," he tells Timmy, reaching over and squeezing his arm before following her into the living space.

 

Timmy feels choked up and breathing is difficult. He wants to help him more than anything but he’s afraid it would only make the kids ask questions that they’re not ready to answer. So he stays behind and listens. 

 

“Hops, my darling.” She lifts her up and hugs her tightly. “Mommy missed you so much!” She kisses her cheek and holds back tears of relief. They’re fine. They still love her. Ford comes crawling over and she settles on the couch with both of them. For a moment she’s just glad to see them. 

“Are you staying with us now, mommy?” Harper asks. arms wrapped around her neck. 

Elizabeth looks up at Armie, whose hands are shoved into his pockets. “No, I’m not. Your dad and Timmy are going to stay here and you’re going to come back to LA with me.” She explains.

 

"Elizabeth, can we talk about this?" he asks her, his eyes meeting hers with his jaw set, rigid. "Please?" 

"I want Daddy to come, too," Harper says, looking up at him. "Daddy?" He knows Timmy is somewhere listening and Elizabeth is taking in her words as a plea for them not to split up, but he can't take it. The thought of them leaving without a conversation makes him sick to his stomach. It occurs to him that this must be how she felt last night, sickened by not being involved in the decision to say something that would change everything. Things are slipping out of his hands suddenly like sand. Talking to her might not even help, it might make it worse, and he isn't even sure what he wants to accomplish here but he feels like he's losing everything if they walk out the door now.

 

“You certainly owe me an explanation.” She kisses both of their heads. “Mommy will be back in a second.” She promises and puts them down on the couch before standing up and brushing past him. “Make your lover watch them,” she hisses and leads the way into the kitchen. 

 

Timmy rubs his eyes as Armie asks him to look out for the kids for a moment while they talk. “Okay, yeah.” He nods and walks into the living room, trying to look normal. 

 

Elizabeth leans against the counter. “So. Explain.” She makes a broad gesture.

 

"I don't want them to go," he says, staring at the floor. "I know you're pissed and you have every right to be, but I warned you this might happen. I asked what you wanted me to do if she asked and you shut me down, what was I supposed to do? Lie to her?" He's starting to worry that taking the kids will be more than just a move for today. She'd take them back home and what if that was it? What if she built up her life with them again and could prove he wasn't fit for custody? He doesn't want to think she'd even consider that option, but who knows. His anxiety makes his demons larger than life, and she's nowhere near exempt from that.

 

“How dumb were you to get caught in the first place?” she asks him. “This place has  _ doors, _ you’re supposed to close them! I know you have impulse control issues but this is a lot, even for you. How am I not supposed to think that you did it on purpose?” she asks, glaring at him. “You had your chance. I’m taking them with me. Who knows what else you’ll tell them. I’m sorry but I just--I don’t trust you anymore.”

 

"It was a  _ kiss! _ It's not like..." He shakes his head, knowing she wouldn't listen. He'd broken her trust too many times for her to believe him now. And she's right--he shouldn't have been reckless, he should have gone to the bedroom if he was going to kiss Timmy, not outside their room. He's frustrated and feels the fight has already ended before it's even begun. "I don't want them to think I'm abandoning them," he admits. "And besides, god, wake up. This isn't working, it's not like I said anything that wasn't true. If anything, I said too little. She still doesn't seem to really grasp what's going on here. I never mentioned divorce."

 

Elizabeth crosses her arms in front of her chest. “And you won’t. If they are going to hear anything about it, they are going to hear from me,” she makes clear and brushes past him, out of the room. 

“Time to go sweethearts! You are going to stay with mommy until our flight home tomorrow,” she explains, ignoring Timmy completely. 

“Is daddy coming with us now?” Harper asks as she runs into her room. 

“No, he’s going to stay here with Timmy.” Elizabeth explains. 

“But why?” Harper asks turning to look at her. 

Elizabeth turns to look at Armie who’s leaning in the doorframe. “Because he likes staying here better,” she explains, and it’s not even a lie.

 

"Elizabeth!" Armie clenches his jaw, his fists, his entire being. How dare she? She glances back at him and he fights the urge to raise his voice. Goddamn right he likes it here with Timmy instead of LA with her, but the nerve to say it in front of his kids, in front of Harper who only hears  _ he likes you less _ , makes him see red. "Harper, I'm not going because Mom doesn't want me to," he says, which also isn't a lie. He glares at her and tries to remember that everything he says can be misunderstood to be more hurtful in his daughter's mind. He's shaking, and he wants Timmy to calm him down but it's selfish to want that, especially now. "I had you kids for a couple of days alone, now it's her turn," he says, trying to control himself. He's terrified, he makes a mental note to have Nick watch the kids as much as he can to make sure she doesn't turn Harper against him. She already is and it's breaking his heart. He can't do a single thing without throwing her under the bus, too, and that won't help Harper at all.

 

Harper turns to Elizabeth, deeply confused. “But why don’t you want daddy to come home? I want daddy to come home.” Tears well up in her eyes and before long it’s too late. She’s crying. 

When Elizabeth reaches out to comfort her she steps back and runs away to hide in the living room where she bumps into Timmy. 

“Hey,” he says softly and lifts her up. He’s heard what’s going on with strained ears of course. 

“They don’t love me anymore.” Harper sobs and clings to him. 

It’s breaking Timmy’s heart and he does his best to soothe her. “No, no. They both love you very much, chéri. I promise.” He tries to assure her. “I promise.” He kisses her forehead and rocks her gently. 

“Look what you’ve done.” Elizabeth hisses at Armie.

 

"What  _ I've _ done? She was  _ fine _ before you showed up here making claims that I don't want to see her!" Armie's furious and the only thing keeping him from running after his daughter is the knowledge that Timmy probably caught her in the hall. "You asked me to make sure they knew you love them and I did! I ask for the same fucking respect," he mutters, still shaking. He walks over to Ford who starts crying at the discourse and picks him up, holding him to calm them both down, his head on Armie's chest. "Don't you dare tell them I don't love them, that I don't want to see them."

 

Elizabeth flips her hair back. “I wasn’t lying. You’d rather stay here and fuck your boy toy then take into your responsibilities as a husband and father.” She knows it hurts him but for a moment she just selfishly wants him to feel like she did. “Don’t try to deny it. The sooner they’re out of here the better. I can’t trust you anymore.” She throws their things in the bags. 

 

Timmy is still rocking her and wiping her tears away. “And I love you, too,” he assures her. “I can’t wait for you to come back to New York. You liked it, didn’t you?” he says and she sniffles and nods. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see. Your mom is just tired from flying. They both worry but they do love you.” He assures her.

 

Harper clings to him and a breath shudders out of her. She can hear her parents in the other room but closes her eyes and hides her face in Timmy's neck. 

 

"If you think this is about sex then I don't think you understand me at all." Armie stares at her hard, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Ford's back. "We're trying to build a life, Elizabeth. Believe it or not, that includes my responsibilities as a father. Because as you may know, I  _ am _ a father, and he knows that takes precedence." He grabs the bag she's packing to slow her down. "Listen to me,  _ please _ . You coming here messes with their heads. The only thing that makes sense now is if they go back with you because you're putting it in her head. I get that. But god,  _ please. _ Please, do not let her think I want her to leave. Please don't do that," he begs, clutching Ford to his chest tighter.

 

Timmy flinches when he can hear them raising their voices and hates that Harper is going to remember that, that she might get nightmares because of it. He has to stop her from listening. There’s only one chance. He pulls out his phone and headphones. “You wanna listen to something?” He asks her and puts the headphones on her. “Press them to your ears.” He tells her and puts French hip hop music on. It’s a delight watching her process it. 

 

“I’m not going to lie to her,” Elizabeth makes clear. “And that includes you wanting to leave me for him. That’s the way it is. I’m going to tell her the truth. You don’t love me anymore. Fine. I’m gonna tell her. You’d rather move to New York with him? Good. I’m gonna tell her.” She tugs the bag out of his grab. “She will get to know the truth and nothing but the truth!”

 

"I'm not moving to New York! God, if you're going to tell her things at least make it the truth!" Ford starts crying again and he bounces him gently, pressing his lips against his forehead to calm him down. "He's thinking about coming to LA, he knows how much the kids mean to me and he refuses to let me move away from them. He's not a bad guy, Elizabeth. And I'm not moving away from them." He rocks Ford and covers his ears, trying to block the sound of them out. "I meant it when I said two weeks. That's all I intend on spending here." Ford’s hands grab chunks of Armie's shirt and he doesn't even want to think about having to let go of him. "You better let me talk to them," he says. "I let you, please don't shut me out from that."

 

Elizabeth shrugs again. “Sure. I’m going to do exactly what you did. It was torture enough, believe me.” She makes clear and shoulders the bag. “I hope you have  _ lots _ of fun here.” She extends her hands to take Ford who’s trying to scream his head off at the moment. “Mommy is here.” She coos after Armie had handed him over reluctantly. “Now where is Harper?” She asks and wanders out.

 

Armie can feel himself starting to cry and tries to push it away until they're gone and Harper can't see. He sidesteps her and goes into the hall first, his eyes meeting Timmy's in desperation as he reaches for his daughter. Harper looks looks at him with wide eyes and goes to him willingly, Timmy's headphones falling off her. The breath shudders out of him as he holds her closer and he knows he's scaring her but he's scared, too. "I love you so much, Harper," he says, pulling back to tuck her hair behind her ears. "I love you so much. I'm going to miss you but I'll be back soon, okay? And you can call me whenever you want, and I'll tell you stories if you want and we can talk before you go to bed," he tells her with a watery smile. Was this how Elizabeth had felt when he took the kids? He isn't sure, but it's pure torture. This would be his new normal, he realizes--parting from the kids, only having weekends or alternate weeks, never enough. He's always going to want more time.

 

It breaks Timmy’s heart to watch them and he walks over to give Armie some support and to say his own goodbyes. “We’ll miss you,” he confesses to Harper. This close he can truly see that it’s tearing Armie apart and it makes it even harder to stay calm himself. Armie kisses her one more time before setting her down so she can walk with Elizabeth. Timmy takes Armie’s hand and squeezes it immediately. Everything has crumbled so fast. They both wave at them as Elizabeth pulls them out of the door. Harper looks back at them with wide eyes one more time. Then the door falls shut. Timmy turns to Armie immediately and wraps his arms around him.

 

As soon as they're gone, Armie's defenses crash down around him. He starts crying into Timmy's shoulder and he can't stop despite feeling terrible for being so weak when this had to affect Timmy as well, seeing her in their space. He holds Timmy tightly, using him for comfort in ways he never wanted to have to do, his hands holding him to remind himself of better days, of hope. "What if they don't call?" It's a real concern of his and voicing it hurts, like admitting he's uncertain of his own children's commitment to him. "Ford was crying, I couldn't stop him, he was just crying," he shakes his head against Timmy, holds him tighter. He understands she's angry and hurt, but he feels blindsided. Maybe he deserves it, maybe it's exactly how she felt when he walked through their hotel door in Austin.

 

Timmy wraps his arms around him, trying to give him some comfort. “It’ll be all right,” he says, rocking him slightly and gripping him as tight as possible. Perhaps it would ground them both. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Timmy stirs them towards their bedroom and lets them both rest there curled around each other as Armie’s sobs echo. Why did this have to happen? Now they’re gone and they can only hope that Elizabeth would play by the rules. She has to, he thinks desperately. Otherwise he might lose Armie forever. He presses a kiss to his forehead trying not to think about it anymore.

 

Armie pushes away from him slightly and rolls onto his back; he feels like he's suffocating, though his tears are slowing. His mind feels hollow and his limbs are going numb and he  _ knows _ that Timmy's touch will bring feeling back but he thinks he might just deserve to be numb for a little while. He took them away from home first, he cheated. It's hard for him to remember that he'd wanted this for a long time before the Oscars and that crossing that line with Timmy was only the final straw. It's hard for him to remember a lot of things except the look on Harper's face when she turned that last time. He turns away from Timmy and lays on his side, his breath shuddering out of him still, his eyes closed tight to erase the image of them walking away. He covers his face and tries to stop himself from crying even more, god how embarrassing. He forgets he's allowed this moment to break down, too.

 

Timmy moves closer tentatively. It’s breaking his heart to see him like that and he just wants everything to be okay again. “Hey,” he says softly and reaches out to put a hand on his side, but Armie only curls under the touch. Quickly he pulls his hand back. “We are going to call Nick, tell him to have an eye on them.” No reaction. “We can fly to LA. Right now. Next flight. So you can at least be near them.” He offers. “Armie, please. Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out and try to hide. It hurts and that’s okay. Please, let me help. Anything.” He pleads.

 

Tears slip past Armie's defenses with the desperation in Timmy's voice. He can hear how hurt he is and how worried--he never wanted that. He doesn't want to move, to exist; it's easier to just lay here and cry than deal with what's going on. But he has to, and Timmy's right. Shutting him out now doesn't do any good. He shuffles around and yanks the blankets so they cover him and Timmy, and then turns into him, pressing his damp eyes against his chest.

 

“That’s better.” Timmy mumbles and wraps his arms around him. They can hide from the world for awhile. Here under the blanket there are no more daggers thrown at them and hopefully Armie would be able to take a breath. “I want you to know that I love you and that I’m going to do anything in my power to make you less miserable,” he promises, drawing soothing circles on his back and just letting him cry for a moment.

 

Armie nods and covers his face but doesn't pull away from him anymore. His hands are warm on his back and he draws as much comfort from them as he can, telling himself not to overreact. It would be fine. People get separated everyday and they still see their kids. This isn't permanent. He thinks even if he got on a plane right now to follow them back to California, she'd do everything she could to stop him from seeing them as some form of punishment for slipping up. His only option is to stay here and let some of the frustration blow over. 

He focuses on the weight of Timmy's touch and his heart beating under him, feels his life seep into his own. It's nice to be held, he thinks somewhere in the back of his mind. He feels young as he often does with Timmy, small even. He presses his lips against Timmy's chest because words fail him, and hopes he understands that he's thankful for this, for  _ him. _

 

“It’s okay.” Timmy repeats. “Come here. Let me kiss you.” He begs and pulls Armie up kissing him softly. “Look we can let room service come up and not leave the bed all day.” He suggests stroking through Armie’s hair. “Or we can take a bath. The bathtub is huge...” He points out when Armie suddenly reaches out and brushes across his cheeks. It’s only then that Timmy notices he’d started crying. “Crap, I’m sorry.” He wipes his face. “You know- just... seeing you hurt like that--it hurts me, too.”

 

Armie's face twists in pain and he shakes his head, his voice caught in his throat. He leans in and kisses him, tries to kiss the hurt away, but they're both crying and it just doesn't work that well. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he keeps saying, trying to kiss him again. "Please don't cry," he begs, knowing they've entered some sort of vicious cycle where each other's emotion only spurs on their own. His kisses his jaw and threads his fingers through his hair before resting his forehead against Timmy's shoulder to steady his breathing. Staying in bed would be nice, he thinks. A bath as well, but that involves moving and he's not sure he really wants that yet. For now, he's content to spent time in Timmy's arms like this.

 

“Sorry, I- I’ll stop.” He murmurs and wipes his eyes. It’s a fucked up situation which forces them to hold still and wait. The only thing they can do is making the wait pleasant. He pushes the covers down a little and grabs his book from the nightstand. “Hey, want me to read something?” he asks and sniffles pushing the curls out of his eyes.

 

Armie pulls the blankets back up over himself. "Sure," he says, sensing Timmy might need to read more than Armie needs to hear it. Knowing he's struggling with this hurts Armie, knowing every tear he sheds makes Timmy want to cry more. They're too invested, too wrapped up in each other's hearts and emotions. It makes separating their pain impossible. He tangles one of his legs in between Timmy's under the covers and tries to steal some stability from his touch.

 

Timmy puts a hand on Armie’s back and lets it draw slow circles while he reads calmly. It’s a happy story. Nothing that hits too close to home right now. It keeps their minds occupied and lets time pass. When Timmy’s voice becomes hoarse he stops and puts the book down. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks quietly.

 

Armie nods and pulls him down some so he can kiss him. "I love you, too," he says against him. There's no chance he would risk all of this, go through all this pain, if it wasn't worth it to be with him. He gave him the courage to stand up for himself, to walk away when he needed to walk away, to pursue things and people and life that felt real and right. He kisses him again  and hopes it will help him remember why he's doing this.

 

Timmy kisses him back, letting his hands start roaming over Armie’s back. He feels bad for taking advantage of the situation that they are alone now. He doesn’t want to either. It feels wrong because they would be able to do this if they were here. But perhaps this is just what Armie needs to distract him. Timmy trails his kisses down and sucks a little at his neck. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he urges Armie. He doesn’t want to pressure him into something right now.

 

Don't want this? Armie always wants this. Armie always wants him, his touch, his attention, his heart. He leans into the touch and kisses Timmy's shoulder, feels the emotion to continue to bubble up and out of him, kisses him again to stop himself from being consumed. This love is perfect in its imperfections and the pain that comes with the consequences of it is a price he's already agreed to pay. So he tries to ignore the consequences, ignore the pain. It's all for a reason, and the reason is this,  _ this _ happiness that he so desperately sought for so long.

 

Timmy doesn’t have it in him to stop him despite suspecting that Armie may not be in his full mind. But he needs this, too. Needs the reassurance of their love making and he wants to take care of Armie, wants to make him feel good. He rolls them over so he’s on top and pulls Armie’s hair slightly as they kiss. “Armie, can I--would you--let me ride you? I want to make you feel good.” Timmy explains their faces only a breath apart.

 

Armie swallows, Timmy's words going straight to his groin. The fog of emotion parts only to accommodate for the arousal he now feels, but the look in Timmy's eyes and the implication of his reasoning for wanting to make him feel better reminds him of what's happening in reality outside of this bed. He nods, feels dizzy in the heady environment that hangs over them now. He focuses on the feel of Timmy's hand in his hair and pulls him back down by his forearms to kiss him again.

 

They get lost in their kisses and Timmy takes his time to pull off his own clothes. He doesn’t want to expose Armie any more so he leaves most of his clothes on showing him that he trusts him even when he’s the only one naked. Their breaths are fast and their hearts are beating in sync as they trade kisses and Armie’s hands wander over his body. Eventually Timmy reaches over and grabs the lube. With a seductive little wink he squeezes some on his fingers and starts to prepare himself. He puts on a little show moaning sweetly and throwing his head back.

 

Armie watches and tries to focus on the tremor in his sigh, weight of his legs on either side of his body. His hands wrap around the backs of Timmy's thighs and he squeezes just slightly, inadvertently pulling him closer to his dick. He moans, the sensation of Timmy over him like this something he didn't realize he'd been waiting for. With Timmy's head back and this angle, he can't see his eyes at all and he misses it, misses the connection they have, even though under any other circumstance he'd probably love the exposure of his skin for only Armie to see. "Will you look at me?" he asks, his voice tense and quiet.

 

Armie’s voice sounds different and Timmy immediately stops to look down at him. He can feel Armie relax slightly at that. He leans down then and kisses him. “There’s no one else on my mind. No space. All taken up by you,” he assures him and with a last stretch pulls his fingers out. Licking his lips he opens Armie’s pants. “Is this okay?” he asks and moves to kiss the skin just above the waistband.

 

"Yes," Armie breathes, watching him move, his hips lifting a little at the feather like touch of his lips. His breathing turns slightly erratic, his mind hazy but racing. Is this wrong? Should he be doing this? Isn't this  _ exactly _ what Elizabeth accused him of doing-- abandoning his kids to fuck Timmy? "Wait, wait," he stops him, needing a second to collect himself. "Wait," he says again, covering his face with his hands. "God, I'm sorry, I just need a second," he tells him, trying to breathe, to focus, to let go of her words, to cope with whatever is happening in his mind to make him hesitate. He starts spiraling, thinking of what his parents would say, surely she'd tell them what he was doing and how could he deny it? Would he even be able to stand up for himself? His chest heaves and he hates himself for crying but he can't stop it. For the first time in a long time, he feels everything far too much, too openly, and it scares him.

 

“Armie?” Timmy asks him, shocked. Armie is crying again and he feels so utterly helpless. He had just tried to make it better. Of course he’d fucked up. He moves back quickly giving Armie a little space to breathe and himself to be honest. “I’m sorry--I shouldn’t have--“ He feels very naked and cold suddenly and Armie is still crying. Timmy grabs his shirt and pulls it on again. “Armie?” He reaches for his hands. He’s shaking and entirely caught up in his head. “You need to breathe.” He shuffles back over. “Breathe.” He pulls him to his chest letting him listen to his heartbeat again while hiding his own tears.

 

Armie burrows in his chest and tries to calm down. It helps, having him so near like this, but it also makes him feel worse for stopping all of this. "I'm so sorry," he mutters, trying to lift Timmy's shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm okay. I just, it's just a lot," he says, gripping the hemline and leaning up to kiss Timmy's neck. "I love you, I'm sorry for being a fucking mess," he says, bitter, tears still rushing out of him. His breathing is shaky and his head starts pounding from all the crying. He still can't shake the look on his parents' faces, he  _ knows _ how they'll look at him, just like Elizabeth did, with disgust over his actions, except they'd be even worse. Perhaps more cruel. He hides his face for too long and he knows he looks messy, he knows his eyes are puffy, but he wants to kiss him; he leans up and captures his lips with his own, trying to reaffirm his heart and their love, to push out all the negativity he fears will come with this. He can't have the kids back right now, he just can't. So why can't he have this?

 

“You’re not a mess. Not more of a mess than I am anyway,” he assures him, kisses him again. “I get it. You feel guilty and so do I. Honestly. I think about the fact that we wouldn’t be able to do this either if they really were here and it almost makes me want to stop but- then I realise that it’s bullshit. Why should I hold back from something I love just because I potentially wouldn’t be allowed to have it?” he confesses. Seeing Armie as vulnerable as he has lately makes him want to offer more of himself in return. There’s little more to give but he’s trying. “I’m scared, too,” he makes clear and kisses him. “But I also definitely want to make love to you right now if you let me?” he asks, framing Armie’s face between his hands.

 

Armie takes a deep breath and lets Timmy's words sink in. Of course Timmy would understand exactly how he felt, the exact war waging in his heart and mind. "I love you," he says, lifting a hand to cover one of Timmy's on his cheek. He leans in to kiss him and repeats it,  _ I love you. _ " He's never felt so seen by another person and it terrifies him, but isn't that also why he fell so hard in the first place? Because he  _ saw _ him, all of him, and still stayed? His hands move to his own shirt and he parts from Timmy long enough to take it off, then leans back in to kiss him again. This is  _ right. _ He has no reason to hold back from Timmy. "It's okay, I want this," he nods, touching his cheek and sniffling. "I want this."

 

Timmy smiles and moves into his touch. “Good,” he whispers and pulls his own shirt off again. “I think it’s time to get rid of your pants.” Timmy points out and pushes him down to lay on his back. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls them down together with the boxers. He reaches over then and grabs a condom and some more lube to prepare Armie. 

When they are all set up he sinks down on his cock not breaking eye contact for a second. He can feel the nails of Armie’s finger dig into his thigh when he moves and then clenches his muscles.

 

Armie tries desperately to let go of all his apprehension. To say the way Timmy moves helps him lose himself is an understatement, every shift of his hips driving rational thought from his mind. "Slower," he manages, feeling his release building too quickly with this angle. He needs more, his needs  _ Timmy _ , his heart and mind and soul. He leans up a little, gasping at the new feel, and braces himself with one hand on the bed as the other lifts to Timmy's face. He locks eyes with him and knows he probably still wears the signs of an emotional breakdown, but Timmy looks at him like he's everything he ever wanted. He strokes his cheekbone a few times with him thumb and leans in to press a kiss on his shoulder.

 

They move together very slowly just enough to continue doing so. It’s just about being together in the deepest sense possible. Creating a bond between them, a link, a connection over which they silently communicate their devotion. There are no words spoken but enough being said. It may have been hours before Timmy picks up his rhythm again and moves with Armie’s hands roaming over his body. Their eyes stay locked as passion overcomes them again and hands slip on sweaty skin. Time is lost and all they care about is each other as they ride out their orgasm together clinging to each other tightly. “I love you.” Timmy mumbles into his ear as they settle, both still panting and unwilling to let go quite yet.

 

Armie's fingers dance up his spine, his eyes slipping shut to properly absorb the feeling and his words. "I love you, too," he says softly, still a little breathless. He feels a little weightless and thanks God for it; he'd rather feel an absence of weight than an absence of self, of heart. When his heart rate starts returning to a more acceptable range, his mind wanders back to things that hurt. He pulls Timmy closer to erase the pain and remind himself that this is okay. It'll all be okay, he's not alone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays <3

Timmy can almost exactly pinpoint the moment when Armie’s arms wrap around him more fully again. He knows his mind has wandered. Concerned he reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of his face, traces his features. “Tell me about your latest favourite artwork.” It’s not because he wants to distract him, not only at least but because they talk about this a lot. Art, music, philosophy and in general they touch about every topic on earth. But Timmy loves it especially when Armie talks about art. It’s a passion that no one really takes seriously but Timmy has rarely found another soul with which he could talk about these topics freely and that passionately. Perhaps it’s their mutual respect which allows them to have different opinions and still get along.

 

Armie trails his hands over Timmy's back and shrugs a little, lets a hand wander into his hair. "I've been looking at a lot of stuff from the 40s to 60s," he offers quietly. He starts sifting through art in his mind to talk about and lets himself get lost a little in it, knowing Timmy's trying to connect and distract him, to bring him back down to earth from the lofty anxiety he feels. "Since doing Final Portrait, I've seen a lot of Giacometti's peers. It's interesting, I don't know. There's this guy... I think he's French? I don't really know, maybe British. Anyway, he's strange but it's chaotic... Bacon! That's his name. Francis Bacon, I think. He did these disturbed surrealist things." It's not the kind of art Timmy gets into, he knows, but it's linked to philosophy which he always seems to enjoy. "It's existential stuff, really angsty. I don't know why I like it," he shrugs. He knows why, but he doesn't really want to worry Timmy. He'd fallen into the art of this time while doing prep for the film and it just didn't go away, his mind always in some state of distrusting the reality he saw. It makes sense in hindsight, why it appealed to him then; he was lost and so were the artists, their medium their catharsis the same way his was his own. Now, it's almost nostalgic to look at their art and see it through the lens of someone who comes out the other end alive and well.

 

"I understand." Timmy mumbles. "It's very you," he admits, and closes his eyes trying to enjoy the warmth and while he is technically trying to comfort Armie, he also takes comfort from this, from knowing Armie lets him. "I should take you to the MET sometime," he suggests. They both need to focus on the good side of things right now. They are still together, they are still in love. Luca had told them that they could make through anything as long as they trusted each other, supported each other. "Just try to stop at the sunny pics, too." Timmy says with a grin and leans up to press a peck on Armie's cheek. "We can go out and eat the most delicious meal you've ever tasted. I know I'm up for a challenge there but I am definitely going to try." He assures him.

 

"That could be nice," Armie smiles softly, twisting his fingers in and out of Timmy's hair. His plans ease Armie's mind and soothe him when combined with subtle touch. Armie is constantly in awe of Timmy's ability to see what he needs even when he doesn't know himself, to heal when Armie isn't sure where he's even hurt. "It's getting harder not to kiss you in public, though. I might go crazy if we do it," he teases, but he means it. Especially in situations where Timmy is full of life and energy and bright smiles and laughter, all he wants is to hold him, to make the world pay attention to and appreciate the wonder that is him.

 

Timmy grins, letting his hand wander a little lower on Armie’s torso. “Well, there are still bathrooms.” He whispers. “And dark alleys and broom closets.” He chuckles before capturing Armie’s lips in a kiss. They roll around on the bed before being able to part breathlessly. “We just have to get a little adventurous,” he teases. 

 

They spend the day inside, in their bed doing nothing else. Kissing, talking, making plans. They order room service and eat until they’re sick and a little more. It works, their little plan to hide from the world until Armie’s phone rings in the evening. They exchange an anxious look.

 

Armie reaches to grab his shirt and throws it on before sitting up a little in bed, holding his phone tightly. "Don't leave, ok?" he asks Timmy, turning to him. He doesn't know what will happen but the thought of parting from him now makes him ache. He presses answer and Elizabeth's face fills the screen, followed quickly by the sound of Harper shouting in a sing song voice as she twirls her way into the picture to smile at Armie.

 

Timmy watches with racing pulse, thankful when Elizabeth doesn’t say anything. 

“Hey daddy! Hey Timmy!” Harper calls out and Timmy leans a little closer so they fit into the frame better. 

“Hey! How’s my favourite girl doing?” Timmy asks, pretending like nothing was out of the ordinary while he loops his arm through Armie’s.

 

"Daddy, I miss you!" Harper fake whines now that she has their attention. Armie smiles and squeezes Timmy's hand, out of view. 

"I miss you, too, sweetie," he says. To avoid dwelling too much, he adds, "Tell me about the plane. Did you have fun?" Harper can't seem to sit still but starts in on telling the story of their travels. Armie listens and tries to ask questions to keep her entertained, laughing softly when she takes the phone from Elizabeth and starts wandering around with it, waving in her hands.

 

Timmy leans into Armie’s shoulder and thinks that this isn’t so bad. Her little giggles and shaky camera movements keep them entertained. They occasionally grab a little look at Ford while Harper dances through the room and Timmy wonders if she’s had too much sugar. Perhaps she had been missing them and this had been the easy way out at the time?

 

Armie chats with her, saying anything and everything to keep her on the line just a little longer. His hand slips over Timmy's leg and rests just above his knee, keeping him close and effectively secured to his side as his thumb runs over the skin. As long as he can still have this, maybe it would be okay while they're with Elizabeth. He still feels like pieces of himself are missing but her voice helps put them back in his heart. 

"Okay, I think that's enough for today. We have to get to dinner, Hopsie." Armie's heart sinks. 

"Elizabeth," he says, almost pleading. 

"I'm sorry, but we have plans and Harper needs to change her clothes." He feels sick knowing he can't do a thing about it. The only thing he  _ can _ do is make sure his kids know he loves them.

 

Timmy knows if this goes on for too long it would tear Armie apart. There are so many things in his life that went wrong and he finally deserved some peace but it’s like some powerful force is doing everything to stop that from happening. He hears Armie say his goodbyes with a choked up voice he tries to hide, and chimes in to assure them he misses them both lots as well. 

The call ends and Timmy’s head is still spinning. He wants Armie happy desperately and it makes him doubt everything he’d done. Because how can this be good? How can he as the cause for all of this say he’s doing this to make Armie’s life better? How can he know he’s not doing the exact same thing to Armie that everyone else did? Use him for their own purposes? He tries to appear casual as he goes into the bathroom to draw in ragged breaths and stop the shaking of his hands. He’s so scared to fuck this up. So scared to hurt him and his head is dizzy with overanalyzing everything he’d done.

 

Armie's a little shaken up but notes the look in Timmy's eyes when he walks away, knowing all too well what that look means by now. He stands and follows, pausing at the door. He doesn't know if Timmy's running from him or his emotion; is he hiding from Armie and their reality, or is he hiding from the emotion Armie so desperately didn't want his children to see? Does it matter which it is--isn't it all the same at some point? "Timmy," he says through the door, staring at the handle, a hand braced on the door frame. "Please don't shut me out." He'd grown accustomed to having Timmy there for his own meltdowns and knows it might be a little selfish to want him now, but also knows they tend to be better together.

 

_ What if I’m doing it to save you? _ Timmy thinks. He sits down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m fine.” He calls out. “I just--need a moment.” He tries to recall something, anything, that would tell him he’s okay. He didn’t somehow manipulate Armie into this but his mind is nothing but a cloud of panic. All he can think is how Armie could have anyone if he wanted to and yet immediately stuck to Timmy because he doesn’t  _ know _ .

 

Armie stares at the door for a moment, knows there's something missing in his voice but unable to identify what he needs to do. He tries to open the door but finds it locked, his jaw clenching slightly in frustration. He can't do anything from here, and the helplessness confuses him.  _ You're not fine, _ he wants to say, but he isn't sure it'll help anything. Years of marriage taught him that shutting down doesn't help anything (especially since it had a rather large role in the demise of his marriage), but does Timmy know that? "Please," he says again, starting to worry that if they do this every time they panic, it'll only drive them apart. And losing Timmy after everything is something he's not sure he can take.

 

He needs to gather his courage and tell him then, Timmy thinks. Faintly he recognises Armie’s pleads. This could mean losing him and Timmy knows. Perhaps it’s better he’s around so Armie has someone right now? But the weight of his thoughts are nearly crushing him and he can’t just ignore them. He stands up and wipes his hands on his thighs nervously before going over and opening the door. “I’m not shutting you out.” Timmy mumbles. “But I’m scared.” He admits and runs a hand through his hair.

 

"Then talk to me," Armie says, a little exasperated, mostly out of fear of them distancing each other. He pulls Timmy into a hug and runs his hand over his hair. "I'm scared, too. It feels like you're..." He steps back and takes a deep breath. "It feels like you're shutting me out. Even if you think you're not. We can't keep doing this, Timmy. We can't just shut the doors and hope it'll go away, that's what I used to do with her and I don't want that with you."

 

Timmy leans into him a little too eagerly but he’s warm and comforting and it’s easy to close his eyes. “Ironic that now you want the doors gone, don’t you think?” He teases lightly and wraps his arms around his waist clinging to him tightly. He tries to find the right words to say it but they escape him so he figures he should just start talking. “I’m scared that I pressured you into this somehow because- because I don’t think you realise that it has to be me. It could be anyone or no one and you could be fine, free and not lonely, you could sort this out properly, this separation wouldn’t have happened like this in the first place and I’m afraid that you convinced yourself that this is better just to flee from your previous situation because that would make me no better and-“ He has to stop himself to draw in a breath. The words had just started to tumble out of his mouth and suddenly everything that had build up had followed along.

 

Armie blinks a few times and rubs his back, a little startled. "You didn't pressure me into anything," he says, leaning his head against Timmy's. He's still trying to process what Timmy said--so this had been it, this had been what he'd been worrying about? "Timmy, I don't think you realize what's going on here," he says suddenly, pulling away and running his hands through his hair. His heart is beating steadily in his chest, a constant reminder of the ones he loves keeping him here. "I'm so in love with you," he tells him, nearly choking up as he speaks. "This isn't me trying to replace a relationship, or trying to fill a void. This is about you--" He has to pause, take a breath. " _ You _ being a part of who I am, who I want to be, maybe who I've always been." He realizes he's never tried to explain this in so many words and it leaves him a little breathless and nervous. "I don't want to date you, I don't want to date anyone, that's never been what this is about for me. I want to  _ be with you, _ the situation I'm in now has no effect on that. You're not pushing me into anything, Timmy."

 

Timmy looks up at him with doubtful eyes. He wants to believe this, all of it but it’s not that easy. How can Armie know for sure that nothing would be different if he hadn’t been married? “That’s what I hope, too.” He mumbles wringing his hands nervously. “Anything else would kill me I think.” He draws in a deep breath. “This can’t just be reasoned away.” He admits and touches his chest like he’s showing Armie the weight that he feels settles there even if his words had made it a little lighter. “You know I’m worried  _ because _ I love you, right?” He’s not trying to tear them apart, not unless it is for the better.

 

"I know, I know," Armie mumbles, reaching out to hold his hand. "I just wish you wouldn't. I'm not going to disappear, I want this just as much as you do." He doesn't understand how Timmy doesn't see how serious he is, how badly he wants this to work. There isn't another option for him--he meant it when he said that he wants Timmy, not just to date but more permanently.  "No, actually-- I need this, I  _ need _ you." He hopes that helps assuage his fears, but knows it can be difficult to let words really sink in.

 

Timmy looks away. “But you shouldn’t. You should not depend on me like that. I want you to be healed enough that you can stand on your own one day and I’m just something that makes you even happier.” He frowns, hoping that this expresses what he wants to say. “I hope that makes sense.” He rubs a hand over his face before looking up at Armie. “Maybe I can help you to get there. Because you need to heal and right now a part of you is across the country which is only tearing you apart more, I know.” He takes Armie’s hands and entwines their fingers. “Either way, I’m here and I want to try to make it better. Please,” he begs.

 

"I can-- it's not--" he groans and runs a hand over his face. How can they hear the tone of each other's sigh and understand the exact meaning behind it and yet still have so much misunderstanding when talking about this? "I don't mean I need you to... to  _ stand _ , I need you because... God, I don't fucking know how to explain this." He looks at Timmy and sighs, steps towards him, touches his cheek. "I just need you, I'm my best version with you. I'm stronger and... and I love you, you make it okay to... I don't even know. You make it easier to breathe, you know? I need that, I need you to balance me." He drops his hand and looks away for a moment. "Yes, a piece of my heart is over there, but you're also a piece of my heart. I need you to understand that. If I'm away from you it tears me apart, too."

 

Timmy nods. He’s envious of Armie finding just the right words. “Thank you,” he mumbles, not necessarily for saying that but for it being the truth, for being honest with him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He makes clear and steps closer, placing a hand over Armie’s heart feeling the steady thump-thump calm him. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, although they both know this is not about kissing. Not only.

 

Armie smiles a little and nods, lets Timmy take the lead. He thinks he's finally gotten his point across, that Timmy knows he means it. He touches the edge of Timmy's shirt and tugs it a little to get him closer, relaxing as Timmy lets his lips meet Armie's. Kissing him is important. He remembers a time in his youth when kissing was a means to an end, when it served a primary purpose of getting him to where he needed to go. It had never been like that with Timmy, not even in Italy. Their first kiss in all its hesitancy and uncertainty had been like relearning to breathe, their second and third the same. He learned the shape of Timmy's body before he ever realized he had his heart, learned the taste of his tongue, the curl in his hair, the scent of his skin, all before he understood the desire to reach out and brush his knuckles against his arm was anything but platonic. He  _ knows _ Timmy, knows how he kisses and and feels and comforts and loves, and yet sometimes, his lips take him back to the start. Back to when the sheer attention of him is enough to make him dizzy in his soul. The gravity of kisses like these make him realize there is no expiration date to learning how to love Timmy, how to  _ be _ loved by Timmy. This love isn't something to be understood once only; it's so much more, changing every day, a new experience every time he looks in his eyes and sees it reflected back at him. He wants to convey it all, to let Timmy feel as much as hear how he feels. No, this isn't just about kissing. Perhaps it never was and never will be.

 

Everything about this is gentle and loving, a caress of lips, minds and souls. He draws comfort from it because this is the reassurance that there’s so much more between them than just a simple desire. When they pull apart Timmy takes the time to study Armie’s face for a moment and he’s glad that he understands and holds still, nothing but conviction in his eyes. It makes Timmy breathless and his nerve endings tingle. “I don’t know why I got so lucky to meet you and have you,” he admits. “That I found the person who just understands me. Thank you.” He presses another sweet kiss to Armie’s lips.

 

Armie frames his face in his hands and kisses him back briefly. "I could say the same," he admits. A calm sets over them and he revels in it for a moment. It's hard for him to believe he almost walked away from all of this just because he was afraid Timmy would outgrow him. There isn't much Armie is certain about anymore except how true the opposite is. He's starting to understand that he and Timmy might  _ actually _ be meant for each other, that soulmates might be a real thing if Timmy is his. He leans forward and kisses Timmy lightly, just brushing his lips over his for a fleeting moment of affection. "Can we please get out of the bathroom now?" he teases, tucking some stray strands behind Timmy's ear.

 

Timmy chuckles and nods. “Of course.” He’s glad they can find their way back to light hearted banter easily. He leads the way out by pulling Armie with him. “So room service? Or do you want to cook? Or go out?” He asks. It’s not like he’s hungry but it will take their mind off things and Armie can always be cheered up with anything food related.

 

Armie wraps his arms around Timmy from behind and leans down a little to press his lips against his neck. "If we cook then we have to go to the store," he says, his arms loosening a little around Timmy. "Which we could do, but I kind of just want to hang out. We can order some stuff and watch something?" he suggests, trying to strategically place his hands places where Timmy isn't ticklish.

 

Timmy hums. “Sounds like a plan.” He turns his head to Armie and steals another kiss. 

 

Not much later they find themselves on the couch, watching a documentary and feeding each other dinner which resolves into a huge mess. They laugh and kiss and lick sauce from fingers and it’s okay. Maybe a part of Armie is still missing but with time this will be resolved, too, Timmy can’t believe anything else right now. They get tipsy on the wine and handsy during dessert.

 

A part of this feels like they're back in Italy pushing boundary lines and getting caught up in each other in ways they probably shouldn't have. It's allowed now, the casual flirting and desire to get closer. They don't have to hide behind wrestling to hold each other; they wrestle because they can, and Armie holds nothing back when he pins Timmy, kissing him and pressing his side until Timmy's a fit of laughter, the sound cluttered with the sound of  _ I love you _ stuck somewhere in his frantic breathing. The urgency to undress is replaced by the comfort of knowing they have all the time in the world, their desperation for skin coupled now with the understanding that this won't be the last chance they get, not by a long shot. It's the level of intimacy Armie's been craving for a long time with Timmy, stealing smiles and giggles and sighs like a bandit, knowing all along he'd be doing this until he died. When he leans away to take another sip of wine, he smiles to himself. Yes, this is complicated. But it's also not--he loves Timmy, and he knows it's work but it's so worth it to have this that he doesn't mind at all.

 

Timmy lies back panting to get air back into his lungs while he watches Armie drink and then turn back to him. He has to giggle again pressing his arms to his side to shield them from tickling. “Mercy!” He gasps But Armie just attacks his neck pressing feather light kisses and tickling him with his stubble. Timmy’s laugh soon turns into soft moans and gasps as teeth nip on his skin. “You can leave a mark now, you know.” Timmy points out breathlessly. One of his hand grips onto Armie’s hair greedily as he tips his head back and gives him more access with a soft sound. “Mmh, Armie.” He sighs approvingly his other hand running over his back.

 

Armie knows he just had Timmy a few hours ago but already the urge to be closer is too much. It occurs to him that they're in some sort of honeymoon phase together now, alone in a hotel, newly committed to this relationship. Armie uses it to justify how the blood in his body runs south, how heady it is to suck on Timmy's neck without fear of getting caught. After the emotional exhaustion of the day, it feels nice to be breathless because of Timmy's body instead of his own heart aching. He grinds down on Timmy and wonders not for the first time what it would feel like to let Timmy take control, to let him pin him to the couch instead of the other way around. He gets distracted by the thought, thinks they don't have enough room to switch positions now without falling off. He's thinking too much and tries to stop, but the thought keeps pressing back into his mind. "Bed," he whispers against Timmy, hoping that would solve his problems for him.

 

“Okay, okay.” Timmy pushes him up and has to take a moment before he can stand up. He turns to look at Armie who is watching him with blown pupils and slightly open mouth. Timmy becomes self-conscious for a moment before he remembers that it’s okay, he can indulge. He leans in and kisses him slipping his tongue into his mouth. For a moment they forget their initial plan again and get lost in each other. Only when they pull apart and stare at each other dazed for a moment Timmy remembers and pushes himself from the couch to walk in the direction of their bedroom. He halts at the door and pulls his shirt over his head. “What? Are you coming?” he asks Armie teasingly and stretches.

 

Armie laughs a little and smirks, following him and stripping his own shirt midstride. He passes Timmy without touching him and goes for the bed, his heart pounding like crazy in his chest. He stretches out on it and then leans up with his hands on the bed at his sides, watching as Timmy approaches. It had to have been like this in the beginning with Elizabeth--right? This need, the breathless craving to be together? He couldn't remember now. He couldn't remember anyone but Timmy, as terribly cheesy as it is.

Timmy can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in Armie’s stretched out form on their bed. He’s gorgeous and Timmy remembers how much he’d wanted to touch even before it was allowed and that he got what he wanted thanks to shooting. Still, it sends his heart pounding. “Strip.” He orders before he’d thought it through, just wanting to see more skin. For a moment, he holds his breath, unsure whether he just overstepped a line but then Armie reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants. He watches greedily as more and more skin gets revealed. He quickly sheds his own clothes then before walking over to the bed.

 

Armie's the first to admit he usually likes to be in charge in bed, but he can't deny the way his body reacts to Timmy's order. He'd had a hunch it would be intoxicating, but the reality is better. He can't quite find his voice yet, his body too warm yet already breaking out in goosebumps as he watches Timmy. It seems all they do these days is make love, but how could they not when it means this much? When it feels as good as it does? Armie's a little shy out of nowhere being put on display like this, but doesn't make any effort to move.

 

Timmy drinks in every detail his eyes discover. The goosebumps, the hair on his chest, the way his Adam’s apple bops. He climbs onto the bed wordlessly. They’re indulging endlessly these days but there’s so much they have to catch up on it feels like that he can’t really be mad at himself for it. He kneels over Armie, knees and hands on either side of him as he leans down to kiss the Adam’s apple, then the space between his collarbones, down his breastbone towards his belly button into which he dips his tongue before pulling back. “Is this okay?” he asks, stroking Armie soothingly.

 

Armie leans back into the bed, his breathing shallow. "Yeah, it--it's good," he says, his mouth going dry. It never ceases to amaze him how much confidence Timmy has, and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a turn on. He has to make a conscious effort not to raise his hips with Timmy this close to him. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on breathing and starts cataloging the feel of Timmy against him like this for later. He can feel his hot breath against his skin; he grips sheets under himself to release some tension.

 

Timmy licks deeper and then wraps his mouth around the tip of Armie’s cock. He revels in the breathy sound Armie makes and the way he strains to keep still. He swivels his tongue around the slit before pulling back and licking down his length once. He knows their dynamic is different than usual but every sound he draws from Armie turns him on more. Like this he can see exactly what his touch is doing to him and it’s more arousing that he’d thought was possible. Next he caresses his balls, remembering fondly when Armie thought nobody would find them hot. Nothing about Armie Hammer is not hot, he thinks and wanders to his inner thigh.

 

Armie thought it might be easier to lay back and let Timmy do what he wants, but he still has the urge to flip their positions. He fights it and lets himself get lost in the teasing, in the way Timmy keeps glancing up at him. He keeps himself together pretty well until Timmy nips at his skin lightly. He moans, the sound tapering off into something almost resembling a whimper as reaches down to grip Timmy's hair. His legs are threatening to start shaking and it almost makes him uncomfortable how vulnerable he feels, but this is Timmy, and he's starting to get used to this heightened level of vulnerability and acceptance.

 

Timmy reaches up and catches Armie’s wrist holding it in place so he can turn his head and press a kiss to it. Then let’s it go and returns where he knows Armie needs him to be. He sucks gently and instead licks more wanting to draw this out a bit longer. He places his hands on Armie’s hip bones to make sure he doesn’t buck up as he takes him into his mouth. He feels his muscle quiver slightly under his fingertips and it’s intoxicating.

 

"God,  _ fuck _ if you want me to last you can't-- oh  _ god _ ," Armie moans, trying his best to keep himself still and steady, but it's a lot. It registers somewhere in the back of his mind that letting Timmy take the lead is better than he thought possible and it makes him dizzy with want. He focuses on breathing and calms down a little, but not much. He isn't really sure what he wants at this point, just that he can't stand thinking of Timmy withdrawing touch anytime soon. The press of his hands at his hips is distracting and heated and he can't think of a single reason to ever leave this bed.

 

Timmy smiles a little and pulls off. “Who says I want you to last?” Timmy asks teasingly and dives back in watching Armie’s face. This is not about power. They are both on equal standing in their relationship but it’s about trust and vulnerability. He doesn’t underestimate how hard it is for him to let Timmy do this without hiding part of him or his pleasure away.

 

"You're trying to kill me," Armie complains, but grips Timmy's hair tighter and feels himself reaching the edge too soon. He tries to slow his breathing and can't stop his hips from jerking against Timmy's grip. He doesn't want this to end but he's getting needy and caught up in his mouth and the sound and the rhythm. He moans, his hand that isn't in Timmy's hair gripping the sheets.

 

Timmy can feel Armie drawing close to the edge and takes him a bit deeper for that and hollows his cheeks as he sucks him off. Armie’s groan is loud and long before his cock twitches and he spills his semen. Timmy pulls back when it spurts over his tongue and gets it all over his chin and lips. It should be disgusting but he really doesn’t mind. He kisses the skin of Armie’s stomach before looking up at him. His chest is still moving rapidly and the pants fill the room. “So good,” Timmy mumbles on a whim and draws Armie’s gaze to him. He sees the moments Armie notices that he still has come dripping from his chin and his eyes roll back with a pained groan. “Should I wash it off?” Timmy asks shyly, not sure if Armie thinks it’s disgusting.

 

Armie stares at the ceiling and considers the question, his face and body warm and buzzed. He rests a hand over his chest and feels his heart still thumping wildly there, thinks of Timmy still sitting between his legs, feels dizzy. "It's okay?" he says tentatively. "If you want, I guess." He shifts and inadvertently causes Timmy to fall against him a little, a breathy laugh escaping. "Sorry," he smiles before leaning up and feeling a sudden rush at Timmy so content on him, cheeks flushed, chin damp, hair mused. He takes a few deeper breaths and reaches down to wipe his chin, trying to keep a neutral face. He kind of likes him like this, likes that Timmy's idea of taking over meant giving Armie pleasure, likes how he just sits there to gauge his reaction to know what he is and isn't comfortable with. He trusts him more than anyone else if he's honest.

 

Timmy smiles partly relieved. “Okay.” He reaches up and wipes his lips before leaning up to kiss Armie. He’s afraid Armie can still taste himself in his mouth but he doesn’t flinch away. “That was great,” Timmy mumbles as he pulls back. “I mean--we could do that from time to time if you don’t mind.” He suggests and strokes Armie stumble lightly. “I mean--I enjoyed it.” He ducks his head slightly. Perhaps with more time he’d grow more comfortable in what Armie likes and what he doesn’t. He’s still shy now.

 

"If I don't mind?" Armie laughs and runs a hand through Timmy's hair. "That's a joke, right? Do you not see me still struggling to breathe?" he asks, looking down with a smile. He sees the hesitation in his eyes, though. He isn't used to someone being so concerned with what he wants--it almost turns him sentimental with Timmy looking at him like that. "C'mere," he says while pulling him up and kissing him, his leg caught between Timmy's and shifting, knowing he's still hard. "I trust you," he whispers. "Don't worry so much. I  _ love _ this, and I love  _ you. _ "

 

Timmy’s eyes flutter shut and he sighs. “I know. It’s just hard to believe sometimes.” He points out. “I love you, too.” He mumbles and gasps as Armie shifts again. “It’s okay. I can take care of it in the shower.” He assures him but Armie doesn’t stop and Timmy moans. Right, he tells himself. Armie told you not to worry. He wants to take care of you, too. Armie’s hand is huge and warm and everything Timmy needs when it wraps around his cock. “I- fuck. Feels good,” he mumbles, feeling sweat gather between his shoulder blades and in the hollows of his knees.

 

Armie considers turning them over but thinks against it, instead looking up at Timmy as he tightens his hand just a little. He uses his other hand to trace lines over Timmy's face, down his neck--it's different when Timmy isn't on his back, he sees the way his hair falls better and the tremble of his muscles. "What do you need?" he asks, watching him and feeling his own heart race a little at the sight. He thinks he'd probably do anything for Timmy at this point, he loves him so much. "God, you're beautiful," he mumbles almost to himself, his fingers caught on his collarbone.

 

Timmy blushes slightly. Armie’s compliments still rendered him incoherent. He can’t possibly think clearly with Armie’s hand on his dick though. “More,” he gasps simply. “You. More.” They’re the only things circling in his brain right now. “Fuck.” He groans when Armie’s grip tightens just a tad more as he strokes him. “Armie,” he whines. “Please. Want to come,” he begs.

 

Armie nods and moves his hand faster, flipping them so Timmy is on his back and he has some leverage. He braces himself with his other hand and sucks on Timmy's neck, his legs pinning Timmy's to the bed. Timmy gasps and lifts his hips, and Armie let's him, wants to see him undone in his own way. He ghosts his breath over Timmy's jaw and tells him it's okay, he's got him. "You can come," he tells him, scattering light kisses on his skin and brushing his nose along his jaw.

 

Timmy keens and arches his back when a swipe of Armie’s thumb across his slit does him in. “Armie!” He moans as he comes, spurting his load over Armie’s hand, his vision momentarily whitening. He’s still panting when he becomes aware of his surroundings again. “It’s always so intense with you,” he mumbles tiredly and reaches up to touch Armie’s jawline from where he’s leaning over him, pulling him down for a kiss. His body is still pleasantly buzzing and he sighs into Armie’s mouth. “Thanks,” he mumbles and presses another peck to the corner of his mouth.

 

"Any time," Armie teases, watching him recover with a smile. He looks for a towel or something but nothing is in his reach, so he lifts his hand tentatively and licks the cum off before kissing Timmy's chest and slipping off the bed to grab something to clean them up better. He walks to the bathroom and comes back with a towel, pausing and smiling when he catches Timmy staring. "What?" he asks, surprised he doesn't feel self-conscious under his gaze. It's comforting more than anything to know he's at a point where he feels this normal being exposed around Timmy.

 

Timmy can feel his heart starting to heat faster just by looking at him. Comfortable, happy, handsome. He slips from the bed and quickly crosses the space between them jumping up and wrapping his legs around him while he presses a passionate kiss to his lips. He can do this, he realises and it makes his heart beat even faster.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh... my god. Okay so i reread this chapter and it was like 10k and so much happens and i selfishly want the second half of it (which lmfao is one of my favs of the entire series for the record) to be on its own so it's now split idk how many chapters this fic will end up being but it is what it is ENJOY

Armie's hands find Timmy's back to hold him steady as he kisses him back. He pulls away with a somewhat startled chuckle and runs a hand over Timmy's side, trying to dodge the spots where he's ticklish. "You're going to have to give me a minute, man. I don't remember the last time I had this much sex," he laughs, shaking his head a little. He remembers the first time Timmy jumped up on him like this. He'd been so taken aback that he nearly fell over, his hands fumbling to grip Timmy's shirt. Timmy in all his confidence just laughed and grabbed his hair while hiding his face in the crook of his neck, oblivious to Armie's increasingly affectionate smile. It happened a few times in Italy. So much of their time there was leading to this life now, he realizes. He presses his lips to Timmy's shoulder and lingers there while holding him a little tighter.

 

Timmy just clings to him, content with that, too. “Okay, old man,” he teases and leans down to nuzzle at Armie’s neck. Struck by an urge he starts sucking a hickey into the skin, enjoying the tightening grip on his hips. “Hmmm, looks good,” he mumbles when he pulls back and runs a thumb over his work. Then he reaches up to pull at Armie’s hair to guide him into another passionate kiss.

 

The insistence behind Timmy's movements makes it clear to Armie that he might as well just take them back to the bed. He stumbles a little but sits down at the edge and lifts his hands to Timmy's hair to tug. "Can't believe you marked me," he smirks, tilting Timmy's neck to admire the mark he left earlier. Now they matched, a complete set of absolute trust and affection and desire. He kisses Timmy again and lets his hands fall to Timmy's thighs. He worries a little that they're using sex as a distraction, but it's also so damn good that he thinks it's okay. They waited so long to tell each other how they felt and this is it for them, Armie's sure. This is his person. He worries about the kids but knows he can't do anything right now. Maybe tomorrow he could call his lawyer, and even Nick-- he could help keep an eye out. What he really worries about is the summer. Would she even let the kids go to New York at all? Would they keep up this charade? Is it better to--would it hurt Timmy less or more if they held off on the announcement of the split?

He pulls back from Timmy and looks at him for a moment before shaking the thoughts from his head and kissing the corner of his mouth.

 

Timmy grins and leans back to study Armie’s face. He looks happy and relaxed enough. There’s a part of him missing and he knows that’s where his thoughts go half of the time but that’s okay. Timmy understands. But it’s important that he’s into this, too. That he’s not doing this to do anything at all. But Timmy is pretty confident in Armie wanting this, too. Especially now that Armie is chasing after him to attach his lips to his throat. There’s a light hearted giggle from Timmy as his hands fist in Armie’s shirt to keep balanced on his lap. “So are you going out with me tomorrow?” He asks.

 

"Out with you?" Armie kisses his neck. "Is Timothée Chalamet asking me out on a date?" he teases, tickling his side briefly. He loops his arms around him and sighs. "What did you have in mind? We should probably leave this place at some point," he smirks, glancing around. He's experienced afterglow before, but it's different with Timmy, lighter somehow. There's always a sense of relief and unabashed joy that lingers and lingers and lingers with every second he's with Timmy until they're forced apart or to put clothes back on. He kind of just wants to stay here and soak up the attention, but going out would be better. They need some fresh air and he needs to get out of his head sooner or later.

 

Timmy hums thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Food. Maybe MoMA?” he suggests. Art and food are two major weaknesses of Armie. Things that make him incredibly happy and Timmy is going to abuse that knowledge to do just that. “And then coffee and tiramisu at some small café. You can kiss me silly in the bathroom,” he whispers before attacking Armie’s mouth, again pushing him back until he’s lying on his back. Timmy’s hair is flopping over them but it’s okay. All that matters now is their happiness.

 

Armie kisses him back and lets his hands rest against his thighs, shifting so he can pull Timmy's hips against his before pulling back with a mischievous smirk. "Art and tiramisu?" He leans up and kisses his neck slowly. "You're trying to get laid," he whispers teasingly, kissing the other side of his neck and squeezing his thighs lightly.

 

Timmy chuckles. “Uh no, sir. I don’t need art and tiramisu to get laid,” he points out smugly and grinds his hips down pointedly. “I can get sex easily at home,” he says and pulls at Armie’s hair to kiss him passionately again. “Got a hot boyfriend, you know?” he says teasingly and licks across his lips.

 

"Mm, should I be jealous?" Armie asks, leaning up and tugging on Timmy's lip with his own. "Oh, do you mean _me?_ " he teases, trailing his hands up Timmy's body. "So you think I'm hot, do you?" He reaches Timmy's neck with his exploration and drops his arms to rest his hands behind his head with an easy smile. He used to hate people commenting on his looks, focusing in on them like it was all he's good for. Hearing Timmy praise his looks is different, though, and he's always liked it when he compliments him, even if it makes him blush.

 

Timmy sits back up and takes the towel to finally wipe them down like Armie had intended to.  Armie looks breathtaking like this. Confident in his skin like he rarely is. “Well, I think you’re quite a few things but hot is definitely one of them. Hot and handsome. My knight in shining armour and with blue eyes. Just like out of a fairy tale.” He leans down and kisses his chest. “Ruined me for anyone else, you know?” he says, and throws the towel to the ground when he’s done before settling on his chest with a happy sigh.

 

"Good, because I don't intend on anyone else ever having you," Armie says, lowering a hand to run it through Timmy's messy hair. The lightness is still in his voice, but it's not just teasing in his mind. He isn't sure what Timmy wants from him long term, but he's certain he'll never date again. If that means living together and raising kids, then he'll do that. If it means adding a ring to the equation, he'll do that, too. It sends butterflies through him to think about and he knows he's getting ahead of himself, especially considering he's technically still married to Elizabeth. It's hard sometimes not to get caught up in their potential, though. He feels he's known him his entire life, saying it's too soon sounds absurd. But given the circumstance, he supposes that's exactly what it is-- too soon. His fingers graze down Timmy's neck and rest against the mark he left earlier and realizes they'll have to hide those marks when they leave tomorrow, and wonders how he'll pull that off.

 

Timmy lets himself float in their happy bubble, unaware of Armie’s thoughts at the moment. He can only think about how they’ll be together tomorrow and the day after that. That they’re going to make each other smile and moan and right now it’s all that matters. It’s not that he doesn’t worry, it’s just rather easy to push aside without any immediate threat. “Goodnight Armie,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft touch at his neck.

 

Armie listens to him drift off to sleep, letting it quiet his own racing mind and lull him to sleep as well. He dreams of Timmy, of his curls and his laugh, his endless laugh, and sunsets over skylines. Timmy is there with his hand in Armie's, his eyes brighter than the light in the sky. Armie holds onto it as long as he can, daring to kiss him despite people walking around within their sight-line. He kisses him until they're both laughing and gripping at each other's shirts to keep steady. Kisses until he's warm and wants to fall asleep in his arms, unaware in his dreamlike state that he had in fact done so. He pulls him closer in his sleep, snuggling into the warmth of Timmy's body and comfort of his embrace.

 

In the morning Timmy floats idly in the state between awake and asleep, enjoying the feeling of warmth under his fingertips and Armie breathing softly against him. It’s good and so very peaceful. He slowly lets reality drip back into his mind, remembers yesterday and has his stomach turn slightly. There’s nothing he could do about it right now though so he pushes it away. Instead he blinks his eyes open slowly and remembers to make this day one of the happiest for Armie so far. He turns his head and nuzzles into his neck feeling the stubble graze his cheek. Usually it’s Armie who wakes up before him due to his insomnia so Timmy is glad that he’s asleep still and doesn’t dare to move. Their plans would wait for them.

 

By the time Armie finally drifts awake, there's bright light streaming in through the cracks in the curtains. He tightens his grip before opening his eyes, groaning at the brightness behind his lids. Still caught somewhere in sleep, he rolls over and--just conscious enough of Timmy's body-- buries his head in his neck to hide from the light while pulling the blankets up over his shoulders with a hand. He sighs deeply against Timmy, his hand releasing the blanket and slowly smoothing out over Timmy's chest. He's growing more aware of his surroundings with each moment, but desperately wants to hold onto the innocent peacefulness of morning with Timmy.

 

It’s been awhile but Timmy had waited patiently. He chuckles a little at Armie’s clear display of still not wanting to leave the bed. He wiggles slightly until his arm is free to caress his back. Words aren’t necessary. He’s sure Armie had been exhausted so it’s a good thing he got some rest. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

 

Armie hums and lets his own hand wander up to tangle in Timmy's hair, his nose pressing against Timmy's jaw. He doesn't worry Timmy will disappear if he opens his eyes, not this time. He knows it's real this time; he knows Timmy is real and touching him and holding him-- it makes him shiver to know he's finally managed to achieve this. He doesn't think about the price he paid, not yet. He'll think about that later, he decides. Right now, he twirls a strand of Timmy's hair between his fingers and smiles against him. If this was to be his mornings from now on, he might actually become a morning person.

 

Armie’s content expression warms Timmy from within. He can’t help but tilt his head a little more and catch his lips in a soft kiss. It’s not much more than their morning breath mingling and lips sliding together but it’s still perfect. One of them makes a soft noise and Timmy turns a little so the angle is better. The kiss might last for hours, Timmy isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter either. When they pull apart their lips meet again for one, two little pecks before parting for good. “Morning.” Timmy mumbles.

 

Armie already misses the warmth of the bed just at the prospect of having to get up eventually. He kisses Timmy's jaw and lingers close to his lips when he says, "Good morning." He opens his eyes and smiles at Timmy, his hand brushing hair away from Timmy's face and twisting into it. He gets caught up watching Timmy's eyelashes and freckles with his hair in his hands and his body under him. He leans down to kiss his cheek before snuggling back in against him. He grabs Timmy's hand and pulls it over his own back to hold him and smiles against Timmy's shoulder.

 

“Not intending on moving, are you?” Timmy asks with a chuckle and starts stroking his back. He’s more than happy to provide a happy cocoon for Armie to snuggle into. He’s happy that Armie is this content in his arms. He peers over his head at the alarm clock on the nightstand that was signalling them that noon is approaching. He knows that eventually hunger would drive Armie out of bed. He’d never decline a good meal. Not even for this, he’s sure.

 

Armie shakes his head _no_ and kisses Timmy's shoulder, shifting slightly against him. The feel of Timmy's fingers at his back makes him squirm a little, the light touch tickling him just enough. He wants the soft touch everywhere, the warmth to consume him even innocently. He sighs and rolls over, his hand latching onto Timmy's wrist as he goes to pull him with him until he's on his side, Timmy's warm chest against his back. He sinks deeper into the comfort of the bed, a breath shuddering out of him as he pulls Timmy's arm over his waist and holds his hand against his chest. He hums with the newfound comfort, smiling even though he knows Timmy can't see as he intertwines their fingers.

 

Timmy lets out a startled laugh. “You? The little spoon?” He leans his forehead against his shoulders to catch himself. He tangles their legs together then and wiggles up so he can press a kiss to his neck. Under his hand on Armie’s chest he can hear the strong thud of his heart and it calms him. He squeezes Armie against him. “Happy?” He asks as he settles against his back.

 

Armie nods and can't help the smile on his face from growing wider. He has goosebumps covering his body when Timmy relaxes against him. A shiver runs through him and he pushes back against Timmy's chest a little before settling again, his legs adjusting slightly. He feels more at home than ever, _safer_ than ever, with Timmy around him like this. The comfort is overwhelming, his heart alive in the way he feels Timmy breathing against his back. He's never laid with someone like this and it feels right somehow to allow Timmy to hold him in the way he's only ever felt comfortable holding other people. The steady beat of his heart in time with Timmy's makes it simultaneously harder and easier to breathe, the love he feels radiating between them making it hard to do anything but hum contentedly and smile. "I love you," he whispers, his thumb brushing over Timmy's hand.

 

Timmy still can’t help his breath stuttering. It just happens. “I love you, too,” he answers after he caught himself and presses another kiss to his neck. He’d sworn before that he’d be Armie’s protector and now he is, he thinks. Maybe not more than Armie is also his but that’s not important. They’re here for each other. Anytime. Always. He presses his hand against Armie’s chest. “I’ve got you.” He mumbles.

 

Armie doesn't want to miss a second of this, but he can't stop himself from drifting off again. He feels almost too warm, but it comforts him, and his mind is so muddled with love that dreaming seems the only option. He isn't sure how much time passes, whether it's seconds or minutes, but he catches himself drifting and opens his eyes to stop himself, his body jerking slightly. He tucks his free hand under his cheek and sighs deeply, his breath catching in his throat at Timmy's firm hold on him. He covers Timmy's hand in his own again and he can't help the noise that escapes, something between a sigh and a whimper, his own cheeks blushing at how willing he is to just lay here with Timmy. He tucks his hand under the pillow to pull it closer so he can hide in it, his other hand lightly holding onto Timmy's wrist to keep his hand steady against his chest.

 

Somehow Timmy understands that Armie needs this and he’s willing to give it to him for however long he does. The museum and meals would wait. Armie needs to heal mostly. He also knows that this is something Armie has to do himself. All that Timmy can do is hold him and assure him that he’s here. Make sure he _knows_ he’s not alone. He waits patiently as Armie shifts again after a long while and rests his forehead against his neck, closing his eyes again. It’s warm and soft. He sometimes twitches and squeezes reminding himself that he’s still holding him and hasn’t accidentally slipped. He thinks back to everyone they went through for this today. He remembers Crema and endless interviews. He remembers crying and laughing and want and kissing and admiration. He remembers pining and wrestling and biking and eating and drinking. “I worship you,” he mumbles into the skin of his neck, knowing it’s absolutely true.

 

Armie shivers and moans, his head lulling back to lean against his lips. "You can't say things like that," he mumbles. "I'm never going to leave this damn bed if you say things like that." He trails his fingers up and over Timmy's forearm, twisting slightly so he can kiss him. He misses Timmy against him immediately, but his lips are slightly more tempting now that he's really awake. He lifts a hand to tangle in Timmy's hair as he deepens their kiss and feels his stomach growl. He pulls away from Timmy and groans, throwing his arm over his eyes.

 

Timmy chuckles. Even without being able to see his eyes he can reach his mouth and uses it to surprise him with a peck. “I was wondering when that would happen,” he teases. “Do you wanna go out and eat something?” he asks, one hand stroking down his side. He starts kissing down his neck, emphasising the worship part of his statement again.

 

Armie hums feels his arms slink off his eyes, his body breaking out in goosebumps again at his touch. Something about this morning is making him more sensitive and he assumes it must just be the attention he's getting, a drastic change of pace for him especially in the morning. "I guess," he says, laying still to allow Timmy to do what he wants. He's not used to this, not even a little, but he thinks he could _get_ used to it.

 

Timmy has to think about last night when Armie doesn’t move to guide his movements. He wonders if this will become a thing between them and finds he doesn’t mind. He stops at Armie’s collarbone and looks up at the anticipation in Armie’s face. “Shower?” He asks. They would not be going anywhere if he let himself be convinced of morning sex in bed. The afterglow would make them sleepy again. But in the shower they would at least be a step further. He takes Armie’s hand and pulls him up with him.

 

Armie follows wordlessly, his eyes skating down Timmy's body as they walk into the bathroom. He crowds his space when he tries to turn on the shower, Armie's lips pressing against his neck as his hands rest lightly on his hips, careful to keep them away from his own so he doesn't get overwhelmed and make it more difficult to get in the shower. "Are we going to have our date today?" he asks, his lips skating across Timmy's skin, never leaving until they have to get into the shower.

 

Armie makes it difficult. Of course he does. The touch of his fingers and lips distracting. “Mmmh. If you want to,” Timmy manages to say. His thoughts are a little messy and he has to push Armie into the shower to get rid of him. He hands him a shampoo bottle and turns the water on, chuckling when he yelps at the first burst of cold water. Timmy then holds his hands out to test the water temperature but Armie takes it and yanks him close. He has to gasp when the cool water hits his overly warm skin but it’s okay because Armie’s hand is resting on his back pulling him close as he bends down and presses a kiss to his lips. Timmy blindly fumbles to close the cubicle and not flood the entire bathroom.

 

Armie stomach growls again but he ignores it, opting instead to drive them both insane. He gets an idea suddenly and pulls away from Timmy, smirking and tracing his fingers across his skin as water falls over them. He drags his hand through Timmy's hair with a small smile and grabs it at the nape of his neck, feeling it dampen under the water. Leaning in to his ear, Armie releases his hair and skims his hand down Timmy's back while saying, "Turn around," and then nudging his hip to ensure he does. He takes the shampoo and starts working it through Timmy's hair slowly and methodically, his fingers dragging through the curls and rubbing against his scalp, intent on turning him into as pliant of a mess as Armie had felt in bed. He kisses Timmy's shoulder, his fingers at the base of his neck before slipping back up into his hair. He realizes that torturing Timmy is torture for him as well, but he has better control of himself than Timmy typically, so he risks it.

 

Timmy squirms under Armie’s fingers and shivers when he realises how wide they span on his head. The pressure is constant and sure. His head lolls back and his eyes slip shut. He’s completely limp at the end of Armie’s fingertips. “Armie,” he whines, knowing he knows what he’s doing.

 

Armie guides him back under the water and rakes his hands through his hair to get the suds out. He tries to focus on breathing evenly so he doesn't get caught up, too, keeping his eyes up and on Timmy's hair instead of on the slope of his back. "We can't ever go swimming in public," he tells Timmy. "I'm not going to be able to keep my hands out of your hair and it's going to be embarrassing," he explains, tugging at the wet strands. "God, I wanted to do this every time we swam in Italy, you were so tempting." His hair is fully washed and Armie pulls him out from the water and switches places, his hands running through his own hair under the stream.

 

Timmy turns around. He’d never be able to use this weakness on Armie since it’s one of his, too. But he can make up for it at least. While Armie is busy with his own hair he latches on his neck, licking, kissing and nipping at the skin. It’s payback and definitely selfish, he thinks as he runs his hands over Armie’s muscular back. When he’s sure Armie is distracted enough he digs his nails into his back pulling him even closer.

 

Armie moans-- this was _not_ his plan. "Timmy, stop," he complains, but his body goes without pause. "God, we're already going to have to hide marks, don't make more," he says, closing his eyes and focusing on staying in control. He washes his hair as quickly as he can manage, but Timmy's hands and lips are distracting.

 

Timmy chuckles quietly against his skin. “Tit for tat, my friend,” he says and moves to suck Armie’s nipple into his mouth. The broken moan is only enough to spur him on more. He looks up at Armie’s desperate expression and grins before taking a step back until they’re not touching anymore. “Of course. You’re right.” He winks. He’s not even trying to pretend that he doesn’t know what he’s doing by withdrawing his touch from Armie’s sensitive skin. “What? Why so grim? Didn’t you ask me to stop?” he asks, and clasps his hands behind his back, stopping them from reaching out and grinning up at Armie.

 

Armie shakes his head and wonders why he's surprised at being beaten at his own game. He finishes washing himself quickly, frustrated at starting the little game, and gets out of the shower before Timmy can tease him some more. A small smile plays at his lips all the while though, an underlying happiness there beneath it all that this is _real._ He walks into the bedroom without waiting for Timmy, knowing every second they were naked near each other was another second he might not put anything on for the rest of the day. He slips into a pair of boxers and uses the towel to dry the water off his hair as he looks for something to wear for their date.

 

Timmy pouts as he follows Armie wrapped in a huge fluffy towel (he likes these best). He’s almost disappointed at the amount of self-restraint Armie has. He’s not seriously angry at him though. But they had to keep their fingers off each other for most of the day and that would be difficult enough. He keeps sneaking glances as they get dressed. He knows he’ll have to kiss him silly before they leave and it won’t be enough at the same time. He tucks his hair into the right position for awhile in front of the mirror while pretending not to use it to stare at Armie.

 

Armie slips into a dark pair of jeans and grabs a white t-shirt, thinking if he dressed too nicely people might notice. He runs a hand through his hair and glances at Timmy, smirking when he catches him staring. He walks over to his and rests his hand on Timmy's ass while pressing his lips to his shoulder. "Looks good," he says before withdrawing and walking over to his shoes to slip them on. "Ready babe? I'm starving," he says, knowing he's pushing his luck with the teasing, but he can't help himself. He's trying to stay light so the darkness doesn't seep through the cracks.

 

Timmy purses his lips. “No, babe,” he says, jumping onto the endearment train. “Actually I’m not.” He backs Armie against the wall in the hallway. “I need to survive without touching you. I need to fill my battery first, you know?” he asks, slipping his fingers through his belt loops and pulling Armie against him. He leans up to kiss him but Armie moves his head up so he can’t reach his lips. Timmy grumbles and latches on his neck instead. “Rude,” he mumbles as he applies the same strategy as in the shower, hoping for more success this time.

 

"You sure you want to start this right now?" Armie asks, his voice low as he tries not to lose himself. He drops his hands to slip into Timmy's back pockets as he pulls him closer, gripping him and trying not to moan. He removes his hands and uses them to frame Timmy's face instead to move his lips to his own to stop the attack on his neck. The kiss drives them both wild and Armie knows they're getting carried away, his jeans far too tight for this as he leans heavily against the wall. "We should stop, Timmy," he says, his lips ghosting over his skin.

 

Timmy hums. He’s only human, okay? And right now it’s very hard to think of any good reasons. “You have to make it up to me,” he demands, hands fisted in Armie’s shirt. He tilts his head to give Armie better access. “Lots and lots of making up.” He whines as they slowly start to disentangle themselves. Timmy grabs a jacket with a high collar. “Good?” he asks after he pulled it on. It should hide the mark--hopefully.

 

"Deal," he laughs a shiver running down his spine. "It looks good," Armie says, reaching out and touching the space he knew the mark was hiding under. He'd been lucky that his own mark was too low and too light to really be obvious, but Timmy's was dark. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a black jacket in case he wanted it, adjusting himself before turning back towards Timmy. "Let's go," he says with an easy smile, taking his hand momentarily and kissing his knuckles before dropping it at his side.

 

Timmy wishes so bad that he could hold his hand but he has to make do with their shoulders brushing together occasionally as they walk down the street side by side. Sometimes they catch the other looking and blushes and silly smiles would be traded. Timmy feels ridiculously giddy. Their hands brush as they walk into a restaurant and get a secluded table under which their feet rest side by side. This would be a long day, Timmy realises achingly.

 

As they eat, Armie can't help the smile from never leaving his lips. The constant touch under the table is almost enough to keep him on edge, but he doesn't mind that much. He likes the warmth from Timmy's ankle resting against his, likes that it's his secret to share or keep. He gets the check and refuses to let Timmy pay for any of their food, his hand brushing against Timmy's lower back as they stand and start walking towards the door. "Which museum are you taking me to?" he asks quietly in Timmy's ear as they slip out the door together, just a little too close. It doesn't matter to him, what matters is that he's with Timmy and it feels good, it feels really fucking good, to just exist outside with the love of his life.

 

A wave of warmth hits Timmy as he feels the breath puff against his ear. He shrugs lightly suddenly feeling very much like Elio when he got the note from Oliver to meet him. “I don’t know. I thought MoMA. I think you’d like it,” he points out, skipping the spaces between the stones in the pavement while they walk side by side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finallllyyyyy my boys will be in a museum. Nici made this happen with the fic and it made me so happy <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NICI WROTE INTO THE FIC THAT THEY WENT TO MOMA BECAUSE SHE KNOWS I LOVE ART MUSEUMS SHE IS GREAT 
> 
> enjoy

Armie watches him fondly and tries to hide his smile as Timmy walks, tries not to stare and resists the urge to take his hand. He's been there before, been to all the major museums in the city, but Timmy isn't wrong. He _does_ like that one. "Lead the way," he says, as if he doesn't already know it. He likes Timmy like this, all full of life and confident in his own city. Something about it draws him to Timmy and he's not entirely sure how Timmy didn't have people throwing themselves at him constantly. Then again, he probably does.

They walk quietly to the museum, Armie's eyes skirting over to Timmy whenever he can steal a glance and smiling every time Timmy's already staring. When they walk inside, Armie holds the door open for him and sighs a little glancing around quickly before smiling at Timmy easily. He doesn't really mind where they go today in the museum, so he lets Timmy lead him through to somewhere, content to follow him into any of the exhibits. They go up the escalators and Armie tries to hide his smile as he stands a step behind Timmy so he has an excuse to look up at him and watch the way he looks around as they go. He looks at the art, he really does. But he's entirely too distracted to give it his full attention.

 

Timmy likes MoMA just fine, but the paintings demand more attention than he’s able to give them today. Eventually he makes Armie sit down next to him, sitting closer together than necessary. “You like it?” he asks softly, pretending to be engaged completely by looking at a Pollock while his attention is completely focused on the warmth he can feel at his side and the ache that this little space between them creates.

 

Armie glances at him and notes the subtleties of his expression, how his eyes can't seem to focus on a single spot. A slow smile forms on Armie's lips as he watches him, sensing he's not really paying attention to the art. He presses his thigh against Timmy's and shrugs. "It's not bad," he smirks, looking back at the art around them. "I saw this performance piece once where these people were posed throughout an exhibit and you just walked around them. It was kind of interesting, they were all posed differently." Armie glances at him and leans closer, his voice dropping low to whisper to him. "If this acting thing ever fails you, you should look into that. Actually _be_ the art I'm allowed to stare at in here," he says and smirks before standing and walking a few feet away, his arms crossed and a collected facade plastered on his face.

 

Timmy wants to yell, he wants to whine. He can stop himself just short of gaping. This is not helping their case. Doesn’t Armie realise this would only make it worse? He jumps up and hurries back to his side. “What the hell,” he mutters under his breath and throws Armie a wary look. Who knows what he decides to do next? “Never stopped you from staring before.” Timmy points out quietly and it’s true. He’s caught Armie looking several times since they’ve been in here.

 

Armie hides his smirk and shrugs, pausing when he gets to the next room and glancing back at Timmy while he waits for him to catch up, purposefully letting his gaze wander along his frame. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says innocently when Timmy reaches him and his eyes meet his gaze. He nods towards the next room and grabs the corner of his shirt for a fleeting second to pull him along. Armie takes his time in front of a Rauschenberg, conscious to keep his eyes away from Timmy. He rolls his shoulders though and can't stop himself... Something in him is desperate to tease Timmy in some small way. He lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck, letting his hand lower and rest at the space where a light bruise is hidden under his shirt.

 

Timmy shivers under his touch and looks up at him with big eyes. He can’t be serious. Armie is driving him insane! He whimpers slightly and takes a step closer. “Armie,” he says a little accusing, a little begging, definitely helpless. His skin is itching. Who the hell thought that it’s a good idea to go on a date? Clearly they are not ready to be in public for longer amounts of time just yet. How can Armie even pretend to pay attention to the paintings right now? Timmy _wants_ him. Armie is the only work of art he cares about right now.

 

Armie bites his lips and swallows hard at Timmy's desperation. He thinks he can hold them off but he's not entirely sure right now with Timmy swaying and making _noises._ He wanders away from him if only to clear his own head, but finds that every passing moment his resolve dissolves a little more, images of pressing Timmy against the wall between the art and making him moan starting to make his vision blur. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, regretting his choice to tease Timmy now that it's making it hard to think. He should have known. He _should have known_ by now that teasing him would only result in his own discomfort, too. He makes his way around the room, trying desperately to think about anything but Timmy's lips. He's shaking, he realizes, almost chuckling to himself. He turns and glances at Timmy from across the exhibit space and swallows. He looks as fucked as Armie is starting to feel. He considers the damage, the potential for disaster. He thinks through the floorplan and tries to remember where things were, how far the corners you could hide in were, all the while his eyes never leaving Timmy's. Was it the way they came that brought them to the bathrooms? Or did they have to go through the other way? Which doorway did they just come through? Where were they in terms of the entire floor, what floor were they even on—he can’t remember. He swallows again and glances around at the three doorways in the hall they're in. He looks back at Timmy and starts walking towards him. "Follow me," he whispers, passing him and walking through a doorway.

 

Timmy does so without missing a beat. He’s hoping, praying, begging that Armie is ready to give in now. He trusts him to know the way to the safest spot. They never should’ve left the hotel. Or at least not without _doing_ anything. Armie guides him through exhibit after exhibit before they’re faced with a vacant space just beyond the artwork, the end of the line. They near the edge and stairs appear, but it’s completely empty. No people using it. Then again there are escalators and elevators. Why would anyone take the stairs? Armie guides him halfway down to a landing before pausing. Timmy could kiss him. He _can_. He looks over hoping to be met with the same passion. But he shouldn’t have worried. A beat later his shoulders connect with the wall and hot lips seal over his. Timmy moans instantly, going limp under the touch. He wraps his arms around Armie’s neck to stay upright.

 

He'd wanted bathrooms, but this was close enough, Armie thinks, knowing if they made it to stairs, that the bathrooms weren't exactly close. And anyway, this exhibit was empty so who cared… right? He presses Timmy to the wall with his hips, groaning at the contact as his tongue darts into Timmy's mouth. A part of his mind registers that someone, anyone, could walk in at any moment. But he pushes the thought away, justifying it by thinking the stairs echo enough that they’d hear, same with the exhibits above and below, so he kisses Timmy deeper and grinds against him while he can. His hands sneak under Timmy's hoodie and shirt, eager for skin, his fingers dragging against his back. "We can't have sex in here," he whispers, already dizzy and utterly ruined. "There are be cameras everywhere and people can come over—it's, it's illegal," he manages after trying desperately to get air into his lungs. He knows they could get the footage of them kissing removed, but sex? Not likely. "Public sex, it's, we have to find somewhere else," the words rushing out of him with a shuddering breath, his lips grazing Timmy's throat and hips press harder against him. "Ah, fuck," he moans, his lips traveling back up to Timmy's.

 

They kiss fiercely and without any restraint. Their bodies are blindly looking for friction. One of his hands is in Armie's hair making sure he doesn’t pull away while the other is clawing him closer. Timmy moans hotly when Armie rolls his hips. This is heaven. He knows Armie is right but he needs this right now. To at least let a little bit of steam out. “Not sex,” he pants between two of their kisses. “But making out,” he points out. They would look for a bathroom. Or the exit. They make out against the wall for as long as they can bear it; then Timmy pushes Armie towards the lower stairs. He slips out of his grasp and bounds up a couple of steps before waiting for Armie to follow. He had been right in thinking that he would chase after him. Timmy stops in the middle of the stairs unable to move a step further without feeling Armie's touch. He grabs the hand that’s reaching for him. For once they are the same height since Armie is standing a two step below Timmy. It doesn’t stop them from leaning in and kissing though. It’s almost sweet now compared to their frantic groping earlier.

 

Armie's breath shudders out of him with the simple kiss, his fingers gently holding Timmy's hand against his chest. He pulls back smiles at Timmy. "Wait, let's go back," he whispers, nudging him down the stairs when there's the sound someone walking into the exhibit above, loud voices and laughter. At the lower pass, he pulls him back and kisses him quickly before the other group encounters them, his arms wrapped around Timmy's body. "I think we should go," he whispers in Timmy's ear, his arms loosening as his hands take Timmy's and holds them at their sides before dropping them entirely moments before the small family comes into his line of sight. They don't seem concerned with the men and walk past them quickly, deeply engaged in conversation. "Is that okay? If we leave?"

 

Timmy nods eagerly. “Best suggestion I’ve heard all day,” he agrees and so they hurry out. Their want for each other keeps the darker thoughts at bay and Timmy is actually thankful for it. They almost start running on their way out gazes burning into each other. Timmy only stops him outside. He snaps a picture of the building and puts it into his stories. “So they don’t think I spend my days in bed.” He teases. The way back to the hotel seems endless even at the speed they are going taking the full advantage of their legs without openly running. “Hurry!” Timmy says as the hotel comes into sight and they’re pushing each other to go even faster.

 

Armie kisses him in the elevator, again in the hallway, kisses him while they open the door. Once inside, Armie takes his shirt off before the lock clicks and kicks his shoes off as they walk into the room, watching as Timmy's hoodie and shirt are removed. "We're going to have to check out at some point," he says, unzipping his pants and reaching to grab Timmy's wrist to pull him closer so he can kiss him. He honestly can't remember a time when he was this desperate so constantly for another person and reminds himself that it's not lust, that he's not reacting to just attraction. He's never been so desperate for someone's entire being, their entire soul and body, as he is with Timmy. He makes quick work of Timmy's pants and kisses his neck.

 

“Well not now!” Timmy points out, but his exasperation quickly dissipates. But honestly, how is that something Armie can think about right now? Timmy pulls his own shirt off with some fight. His shoes were long abandoned. “Bed,” he demands and they stumble across the room but end up against the next wall instead. Timmy hooks his legs around Armie’s hips and moans when the motions makes them grind together. “Armie,” he gasps and pulls him closer by his hair.

 

"Pants," Armie moans, his hands going to work quickly to get rid of both of theirs. "Oh god, I love you." He kisses him again, pulls his hair sharply to expose Timmy's neck for him. He trails a path down to the mark he's already left, sucking on it for a moment before grinding his hips hard against Timmy and bunching up the fabric of his boxers in his fist and losing the ability to breathe properly.

 

They sweep some decoration from a small dresser on which Armie sets him down. Timmy uses the new position to push Armie’s boxers down because they need to be gone _now_. “Fuck.” He moans. “You are so perfect.” Timmy doesn’t mean his looks--or not just them--but him wanting this just as much, loving him as much. “Need you.” He whines and helps Armie pulling his boxers off. He’s standing between his legs biting into his shoulder. Timmy spits into his palm and uses it to stroke both of them. It’s bliss. It’s heaven. He doesn’t think he’s going to last long.

 

"Don't stop," Armie moans, his hands moving to grip Timmy's thighs tightly as he watches while his head rests against Timmy's shoulder. He's fairly certain there isn't a single thing that could turn him on more than watching Timmy get both of them off with one hand; his legs nearly buckle and give out, his hands on Timmy's thighs the only thing stabilizing him. He knows he's leaving marks but he can't bring himself to care; right now, Timmy's hands are the only things that matter, where he touches, _how_ he touches. "Jesus, Tim," he mutters, lifting his head to capture his lips, his hips jerking into Timmy's hand.

 

Timmy’s strokes falter a little as he concentrates on the kiss, draws it out a moment longer. “Love you,” he mumbles when they pull apart and picks up his rhythm again. There’s not a lot of finesse involved but they’re both desperate enough that they twitch in Timmy’s hand and spill with loud moans. “Fuck.” Timmy groans and wipes his hand on his thigh. “Bed.” He decides his limbs feeling soft like jello. He slides from the dresser and staggers for a moment. Then he pulls Armie into the bedroom. They collapse on the bed with a sigh. “Maybe we should start out with activities that don’t take us that far from the bedroom,” he suggests, face smashed into the pillow.

 

Armie chuckles lightly and turns his head to stare at Timmy, taking a moment to catch his breath. He's fairly certain he's never going to get used to it, considering how many times they'd been together and he still felt like he was dreaming half the time. "That's probably smart," he smirks. "God, I haven't felt like this in so long. I feel like I'm sixteen. Except the sex is actually _good,_ " he laughs, letting his land drift over to touch Timmy's side. "Like, _really_ fucking good," he adds with a shit-eating grin as he rolls over to playfully kiss Timmy's cheek, ignoring the dull sound of his phone ringing under a heap of clothes.

 

Timmy chuckles lightly, his heart fluttering in his chest. “A little too good almost,” he mumbles and reaches up to cup Armie’s cheek pulling in for a real kiss. He’s just as inclined to ignore Armie’s phone. Or his own that he hears faintly going off somewhere in the hallway. They kiss until the noise dies down. It only takes second before it starts up again though and Timmy groans. “Don’t they know we are busy?” he mumbles and kisses along Armie’s cheek to his ear.

 

"Ignore it," Armie mumbles, pulling him back up to brush his fingers through his hair. He kisses him again and almost laughs when the sound continues. "That's not just mine is it?" he asks before they go silent and the room is quiet again. Armie raises his eyebrows at Timmy and opens his mouth to say something before the hotel phone starts ringing, followed by one of their phones again. He looks over at the phone, his heart starting to race. His first thought is the kids.

 

Timmy sees the moment panic flashes over Armie’s eyes. He knows what could cause this look. Suddenly he thinks of watching the news these days. Shootings everywhere. “Go.” He pushes him up knowing he won’t have the peace of mind to just continue. He’s feeling sick himself as he watches him scramble to get his phone out of his jeans.

 

By the time Armie reaches his phone, the hotel one has stopped ringing and his hands are shaking with adrenaline. In addition to half a dozen missed calls, has texts, a lot of fucking texts, from his agent, his publicist, his brother, Elizabeth. His vision goes out and he clutches the phone, takes a deep breath. He counts to three, bargains that he can't do anything in the next three seconds, tries to steady himself before he faces whatever's happened. _One._ He clenches his jaw. _Two_. Tries not to pay attention to the sound of Timmy getting out of bed behind him. _Three._ He opens his eyes and shakily goes to his missed calls, seeing all but one belongs to his publicist. That's good...right? More would be from Elizabeth if it were the kids. It starts ringing before he can try calling anyone-- his publicist, _again._ He answers. "Hey—"

"What the actual fuck! Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea what the past half an hour of my life has been? Oh my god, you're so fucking reckless I mean I knew you were reckless but holy shit, Armie. I'm earning my goddamn bonus this year you fucking idiot."

"Wait—what's—" he starts panicking, turning over his shoulder to see Timmy picking up his own phone.

"How many times have you been to MoMA, Armie?"

"I don't know—"

"The fucking [stairwell](https://fashionablylight.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/dsc_0377.jpg) has a giant ass window." Just like that, everything sinks. Everything. His stomach, his eyes, his body, his heart. "Do you want to guess why I'm calling now?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just pretend the guard that walks through the lower level of that exhibit is just.... not doing his job. I remember writing this with Nici and us scheming all giddy like while our test audience (is that what we call them? idk) was like... freaking out. Because they only got this like a paragraph at a time and didn't realize what was going to happen. That was before I ever went to the city, I had to look through the museum guides to see where the art was in relation to each other because I am a NERD. Then I went there and sent pictures of the stairwell to Nici and grinned like an idiot. God, the memories. 
> 
> (also, was anyone waiting for the shoe to drop??)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly idk how many chapters this even is because i just had to split this one in two so it wasn't 8k. upped the chapter count by 1

Timmy picks his own phone up, faintly aware of Armie’s reaction behind him. He’s not screaming and crying so it’s probably not the kids. When he turns he sees that he’s pretty pale though. Something must have happened. Something that made them contact Timmy, too he realises when he looks at the flood of messages on his own phone. Pauline, his mother, Brian. Quite a lot from Brian. It looks urgent. He taps the notification to call him back and doesn’t have to wait long for him to pick up. “Timothée, what in God’s name were you thinking?!?” He’s greeted and he gulps looking over at Armie. This is not good, he realises. He doesn’t know how yet but he knows somehow they’ve been discovered. Their little honeymoon is coming to a sudden end. He reaches out and grabs Armie’s hand, needing something to hold on to while Brian tells him what he’d already suspected.

 

"How bad is it?" Armie asks through the phone, leaning his head against Timmy's.

"It's _bad._ It's really bad, Armie." He nods and kisses Timmy's forehead gently, his heart breaking a little. He knows what this means. "There are pictures, there's a video. Most of them you can't tell that it's the two of you, just looks like tall guys. But... one of them you can see his face and that sells the rest of them. I got the video down but I can't guarantee it's actually down. The pictures are everywhere. Don't...don't look at social media until I talk to his PR people." Armie takes his hand out of Timmy's hold and lifts it to pull him closer, his fingers pressing just slightly into his neck.

 

Timmy follows the pressure willingly leans against Armie and takes what comfort he can get. “It wouldn’t be this bad maybe if you hadn’t posted to your story that you were indeed at MoMA today. Because that’s some great fucking coincidence to make people believe in. Look Timmy I’m happy for you. I really am and I know how brainless love makes people. But this is going to be impossible to cover up. People won’t be able to see this as bro behaviour. You are lucky they did when you were caught FaceTiming at the Independent Spirits. But this is kissing. Lovingly so even.” He points out. “Shit Timmy, he’s _married_.” Timmy winces because he knows Brian is right. As far as the public is concerned Armie and Elizabeth are still a happy couple. And now _this_.

 

"Have you talked to Elizabeth yet?" Armie stays silent and holds Timmy tighter. "I'll take that as a no. Listen, _I_ know what's going on. _She_ knows what's going on. But you chose to keep this separation quiet and it's going to bite you in the ass now." Armie knows he fucked up, knows it was reckless. He also knows he missed texts from his brother, and that there was no way he could hide from this any more. Sink or swim.

"I know," he groans. "Listen, what do I need to do?"

"Need to do? Armie... I don't think you understand. TMZ picked it up _twenty minutes ago._ Stay in that goddamn hotel room until I find a way to get you out of there without a mob waiting for you."

 

“I’ll keep my head low.” Timmy promises before they end the call. They fucked up big time. This could--no, _will_ affect their careers. And the kids. Years down the line and they’ll still be the ones who cheated while Elizabeth took care of the kids. That’s what they’re going to remember. Oh god, Armie’s _mothe_ r. Both their phones kept ringing and Timmy texts his family that he’s fine and staying inside for now before turning it off and taking Armie’s to do the same. “I’m sorry.” He says and risks a look up at Armie. “I shouldn’t have kissed you in the middle of those stairs. I should’ve been aware of those huge windows. I definitely shouldn’t have posted that story like some _idiot_.” He clenches his teeth.

 

"Stop. I was the one who pulled you in there and you were definitely not the only one who got carried away. This on me, too," Armie says, rubbing his back. He shakes his head; god, they're in trouble. He knows Timmy's probably already being called things he doesn't want to think about, and he's probably not much better off. "God, I should have known. We should have just stayed in." He gets angry suddenly thinking about then just inside _hiding_ instead of living. "No, this isn't fair. We shouldn't have to hide like this. I hate that they don't understand. They're going to see the cheating and nothing else and that's not fucking fair."

 

Timmy presses closer, strangely touched by Armie defending them like this. He’s right but then they never had a chance to do this like normal people. “I know. But that’s not something we have any kind of influence on. We can’t change that. It would’ve been bad enough once they found out that you left her for me but now...” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Can we--can we lay down?” Timmy doesn’t feel like doing anything right now. Reality seems overwhelming and he needs to process what just happened.

 

Armie nods and pulls him back to the bed, laying down and immediately wrapping his arms around Timmy. It crashes down on him in an instant with overwhelming force and he presses his face against Timmy's neck. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't want this to happen like this."

 

Timmy nods, gently stroking his bicep. “I know. It’s not your fault. It happened. Beating us up over it won’t change it.” And yet there are consequences to think about. Maybe consequences they can’t even predict yet. At least it’s out there now, Timmy thinks. Although the timing is horrible and it’s probably going to take months to clear this up they don’t have to hide anymore. He turns his head and presses a kiss to Armie’s cheek. Because despite everything working against them he wants to show the world how much he loves him. He wants to scream it from the rooftops.

 

Armie starts thinking about all the calls he's probably missing right now and his stomach turns. Elizabeth could be out there making statements, he could be getting instructions from his publicist... Then he thinks of the message he didn't read from his brother; his mother would know by now, he's sure of it. Thinking about it is overwhelming so he tries not to but not thinking about it is giving him anxiety and acknowledging it without focusing on it makes him feel like the walls are closing in. "Timmy, I-- I'm scared," he admits, tightening his arms around him, surprised at himself for being able to admit it.

 

Timmy lets out a shuddering breath. “I know. So am I.” He assures him. This could destroy them if they aren’t careful. He trusts Brian. He trusts him to do everything in his power to help them. But no one can be sure whether it’s really enough. “I’m here. No matter what,” he promises. He won’t allow this, any of it, to come between them. “We can still hide on some island and never leave it again,” he says, because there’s nothing they can do at the moment but try not to panic.

 

Tears start welling up in Armie's eyes because he doesn't want to talk about this, but not talking about it almost seems worse. "I fought to be able to hold you like this," he says, clenching his jaw. "I don't _want_ to hide on an island, I want..." He pushes his face closer to the pillow takes a deep breath to steady himself and collect his thoughts. "I just don't want anyone to ruin this."

 

Timmy slides his arm around him to hold him tighter. “They won’t. I won’t let them.” He says fiercely but he knows there are so many things that are just out of their control. Like how this might be used against him when fighting for custody. Like this might be a huge dealbreaker for directors in casting them. Like this will affect the movies they already have coming out. Like this will definitely be the only thing everyone is going to review next awards season.

 

"They're going to hurt us," Armie says, shaking his head. It's a mess, it's all a mess and he should have just stopped teasing Timmy today and then they wouldn't have ever gotten caught. A part of him recognizes that he might be freaking out over nothing but Evelyn said the pictures were _everywhere_ and _don't go on social media._ He withdraws his arms from Timmy and covers his face, frustrated with the situation and his own inability to think clearly without getting anxious over this. He sits up and braces his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped behind his neck. "I'm so tired of this bullshit. I just want to hold your fucking hand without worrying about people talking shit. God, I _hate_ that I care about this. I don't want to care about this," he mutters, dropping his hands and staring at them on the bed. "If I wasn't married," he shakes his head. "I should have insisted we file before I came here. At least that would be on record. Fuck, man. I feel like I should be doing something but I don't want to get out of bed."

 

“There’s nothing you can do.” Timmy insists. “You can’t go back and change the things you did.” He sits up as well, moving so he’s sitting behind Armie, and wraps his arms around him remembering how much Armie had like it this morning. “Give her time. Give Brian time. There’s nothing you can do.” Timmy repeats. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just how they are going to perceive this.” He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter but in their jobs they are somewhat dependant on public image. “You will be able to hold my hand without worrying.” He promises.

 

Armie leans into his touch and tips his head to rest against Timmy's. _He's right,_ he thinks. He needed to breathe, not panic. "I know, I know. Perception can be powerful, though. It's been so much of my entire goddamn life," he says, followed by an exasperated sigh. He lifts a hand to cover Timmy's on his chest to hold him there, feeling his heart at his back and focusing in on it. He's warm and stable and he's _trying_ to comfort Armie...so Armie tries to let him. "It's just a lot of change. I wanted more time, you know? I don't know. I guess it was bound to happen. Someone would have noticed I'm happier, maybe proof is better than rumors. At least this way lying isn't even on the table," he says, stroking Timmy's hand.

 

Timmy nods. “Perhaps. At least we don’t have to worry about how to come out now. It already happened. We just need to deal with it.” It would’ve been much better with weeks to prepare, he knows. “Like ripping off a bandaid.” He nuzzles into Armie’s shoulder. “In a year we can go on a real date without worries. We can go on one on our anniversary,” he points out. Though what is their anniversary? Is it the Oscars night? The day Armie came to New York? They had time to figure that out, he assumes.

 

Armie groans, and nearly laughs at his own warring heart. "I don't want to wait that long," he complains, squeezing Timmy's hand. "You're probably right though, we should wait. But I don't-- does it even matter? I mean, god. I haven't seen the pictures but...isn't it a moot point? The world knows we're..." He trails off and groans again when his thoughts continue to run wild in his mind in a million different directions. "Wait, shit. I'm...I'm out." He looks back at Timmy as best as he can. "I'm _out._ " He shakes his head, trying to process it, a little dazed out of nowhere. "Oh my god, I'm actually, I'm out. I could, I could hold your hand and, and I could say it now and people wouldn't, they wouldn't be surprised-- oh my God, Timmy. I've been thinking about this for so fucking long, I can actually, I can _talk_ about it." He starts tearing up and crosses his arms over Timmy's on his chest to keep him closer. He understood this as soon as Evelyn said there were pictures but for some reason, hearing Timmy say the words "coming out" make it more real. On one hand, t's terrifying that people have tangible proof, but on the other...now it's over. In some small, or maybe not even small way, he's free. "Everyone knows, my brother-- he saw it, my mom probably, my dad-- oh my God."

 

Timmy squeezes him. “Yes. It’s over. Now you can. You can post photos of us holding hands or kissing if you like and sooner or later we’ll earn the hashtag couple goals,” he points out. It will happen. He’s sure of it. He loves having a giddy Armie in his arms. Having him excited for the future, too and not only miserable. “You’re out with me.” Timmy confirms again. It would be terrifying for him to talk about this with his family but now they already know. They can share this with everyone. Shouting from the rooftops, he thinks.

 

"I love you," Armie says, his voice strong and confident. "I love you so much. You mean so much to me, you know that?" He leans back a little and nudges Timmy's head with his own softly. "I'm still freaking out a little to be honest but I don't want you to ever think I'm freaking out about _this_ because I'm never going to freak out about this ever again, it's just other people that make me nervous, not you. You are good, you are so fucking good. I mean, fuck. I'm over here losing my mind and you make it your mission to comfort me," he smiles, stroking his hand. "I remember in Italy, you made me want to _believe_ in that kind of love people are destined for. But I do now, I believe in _you,_ and I believe in _us,_ in this. Maybe it is destiny. Maybe you _are_ my soulmate. I don't know what's about to happen with this bullshit but I'm going to try really fucking hard not to let it get to me because I love you, and because they're going to see us the next time we're in public and they're going to know, not because of those pictures but because they'll see. They'll see how I love you," he says, smiling, his chest tight with emotion.

 

Timmy blinks, feeling the tears that have welled up in his eyes. He tries to come up with an appropriate response but this is huge. It’d be huge for anyone but coming from Armie? Timmy is speechless and feels the love he has for him swell in his chest. “I-“ He tries and blinks. “I love you, too,” he whispers unable to say anything and presses his face into his shoulders wiping his tears there. He draws in a shaky breath trying to sort through what Armie just said. “Of course I’m going to comfort you. I know that this is freaking you out. Me, too but I _know_ , okay?” he points out, growing quiet again. “I just want you to be happy.”

 

"I am happy. I worry about the kids and this isn't really helping with any of that but...Even with that...I'm still happier than I've been in years," he says. "Come here," he adds, lowering his hands to one of Timmy's thighs to pull him around, grabbing his hips when he can reach to pull him into his lap so he can properly hug him. His head rests on his shoulder, his arms around his back to hold them together. He's learned he loves it when Timmy holds him, but this lets them both hold each other, and he thinks they need that more right now. "You make me happy just like this," he whispers. He knows they'll have to face reality soon, Armie especially, but he doesn't want to miss this moment.

 

Timmy leans into him, lets himself take comfort in this for a moment. Making Armie happy is all he ever wanted and yet he’s been mostly miserable ever since Timmy confessed. “I love you,” he tells him because it’s true and it’s not something he has to be afraid of anymore. It’s fucked up that they have to go through this but they will go through this. After all that happened, after the whole fight this cannot possibly be something that tears them apart.

 

"I love you, too," Armie says, rubbing his back. Silence falls over them momentarily, the peaceful lull of the air conditioner unit in the background soothing them. Something about the moment feels powerful to Armie in the same way a promise or vow does, this moment of grand consequence where they cling to one another instead of walk away. "Whatever happens from now on, good or bad, it's you and me," Armie tells him, fingers skimming up his back to pull him closer and simultaneously allow Armie to tangle a hand in his hair. "I'm going to have to face some stuff now, so are you. I don't want to downplay what we have if we don't have to, though."

 

Timmy nods. “Me neither. I’m going to call Pauline. And my parents.” He tells him. “If you need me I’m here, okay?” This is so much harder for Armie because Timmy’s family knows. They just worry about him. And even if they hadn’t known they’d be a bit disappointed to learn it from the media but Elizabeth will be furious, not to mention Dru. Timmy leans in slowly taking his time in making their lips connect and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. This is good. He’s not alone anymore. Armie will be here. He said so. Me and you. Timmy’s eyes flutter open slowly as he pulls back and he swears he loves him even more now.

 

Armie watches him slide off the bed and grab his phone and finds himself caught up in the sight, in the absolute mundane way Timmy wanders around in a space that for all intents and purposes belongs to _them._ He had always made Armie feel safe and warm; now is no different, as the light catches on him and his fingers tap against his phone, when he glances up and smiles. He'd been trying to get used to the idea of Timmy being his new normal, of adjusting to having him be the one around all the time... Suddenly he realizes that, without him even being aware of it happening, Timmy had already become his normal. It would have felt stranger to hear news about his life or career without Timmy being there than it would have to hear it alone. It wouldn't even make sense to him to try to call his family or talk about big topics without Timmy being involved in the process. It's already done, the adjustment made, the effect permanent. He smiles at Timmy, a little bewildered at the lack of anxiety he feels in this one moment. He knows it's fleeting, so he soaks it up until he can't anymore, and then follows Timmy out of bed and reaches for his own phone and turning it on. He'd have to call Elizabeth first, he thinks. Then Evelyn again maybe, just to be safe.

 

Timmy watches Armie mostly knowing that whatever he’s doing is more critically at the moment. Pauline scolds him for being so careless but then congratulates him. She knows that this is important for him and that he really does love Armie. His parents scold him for much longer and by the end of it he feels exhausted, all excuses and apologies wrung out of his body. He stops them halfway as he notices Armie’s distress though and just sits by his side holding his hand offering comfort where he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow us on tumblr!  
> lookingforatardis  
> charmie-inspiration


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